


Coffee Date

by Shinocchi



Series: Same Heart; Different Universe [7]
Category: DRAMAtical Murder (Visual Novel), DRAMAtical Murder - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, First Time, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Hand Jobs, M/M, POV Multiple, Wall Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-21
Updated: 2015-08-17
Packaged: 2018-04-05 11:43:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 28,297
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4178523
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shinocchi/pseuds/Shinocchi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What Aoba expected from his job as a barista in a coffee shop was more than just the different ways of coffee brewing; he also wanted to learn how to interact with different kinds of people.</p><p>But little did he know that he'd meet the most challenging yet interesting person to deal with in his entire life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Acquaintance

**Author's Note:**

> I've never intended to start a multichapter so soon but this [prompt](http://otpprompts.tumblr.com/post/122017907972/person-a-is-the-sole-employee-on-the-late-shift-at) appeared on my dash and instantly hit my inspiration cap. This AU is not a new AU but it's not an AU I've written before either so I might as well throw the idea out before I regret it ;;
> 
> This is not going to be too long. It's gonna be cute fluff all the way. Nothing too deep, just a lighthearted story for (once again) NoiAo :) As you may have noticed from the rating, this story also contains mature content. Lastly, enjoy!

Working in a coffee shop wasn’t his first priority, he had to admit that much. But it was the only option he had considering that he had been searching for a job during the worst time of all when everyone else was _also_ looking for a job. The shift didn’t sound too bad anyway. Besides, he was sure that he wouldn’t be employed so easily if Koujaku – a barista in said shop – hadn’t helped him out with his employment process; he might as well be appreciative for even having this opportunity. The only problem he had now was that he had to work a late shift, and he wasn’t sure if he could get used to the change in sleeping schedule before he officially started with his new job.

Regardless, he tried, ended up completely exhausting himself overnight and falling asleep in the morning just to wake in the evening in time for his shift.

It was a refreshing change – perhaps one that he needed after having to go through three miserable university life, which taught him nothing but the fact that he was not ready to face complicated human interactions in the real world he was mercilessly thrown into.

“Good evening!” he walked into the shop, just to be greeted by Koujaku, who turned and smiled brightly at him the moment he heard his voice.

“Yo, you’re early.”

“Better early than late,” Aoba grinned defiantly.

“That’s good attitude. You’ll enjoy your time here,” Koujaku praised, handing him his apron at the same time.

“I hope so,” Aoba responded. “Are you leaving already?”

“I’ll stay for a bit to look after you,” Koujaku gave Aoba a playful smirk. “It’s not too hard of a job, I bet you’ll get used to it soon. Just need to make sure that you get the basics right.”

He was grateful that Koujaku decided to stay; otherwise he wouldn’t be able to memorize all the different ways of brewing coffee then.

Just like how Koujaku had told him – it wasn’t too tough of a job, the most challenging part was perhaps the part where he had to tend to difficult customers who often changed their mind when he was already halfway through his brewing.

It didn’t need to take too long for him to understand that working in this coffee shop wasn’t all about earning money and learning how to make coffee either; rather, it was also about learning how to communicate with different types of people as well – something that he deemed to be the most important lesson he could obtain from this seemingly uncomplicated job.

 

* * *

 

 

Two weeks after working in “Heibon Café”, Aoba had come to realize the huge range of customers he had to attend to. He couldn’t remember every faces that had visited the shop; but he remembered the _type_ of people who dropped by.

One to those being the college students, who often buried their heads behind piles of books. From what Aoba observed, they were constantly rushing for something – assignments, maybe – and were often studying for exams. It was a life Aoba had missed and before he knew it, he’d find himself brewing something stronger for them – espresso, most of the time – as a moral support to help them survive the day. Then there were the couples, who turned up just to smile awkwardly at each other, often telling Aoba enough that this was their first date. He couldn’t help smiling at himself when he caught sight of how unnatural the interactions of these young couples could be. And before he knew it, he’d make them something sweet – Caramel Macchiato, for instance – to silently cheer them on from afar.

It was a whole new experience for him. The more Aoba observed, the more he loved his job. Sometimes, he also came across businessmen in suits, looking all important and all ready to meet their significant clients. He had his own fears when it came to attending to this kind of customer; he wouldn’t know what they’d prefer. He didn’t want to waste their time either so out of his own conscious, he’d find himself already brewing a cup of Americano when they told him to brew the best drink for them. But regularly, when they left the café, they brought along Aoba’s edginess with them as well, leaving Aoba to breathe out a sigh of relief and broke into a perky smile when he counted the amount of tips they’d left for him.

He hadn’t come across any dilemmas either, despite how quiet the café could be when the clock hit midnight. He had no problem with that. Having less customers meant being able to serve the remaining few customers with better, more customized services and he was completely fine with it.

He thought that this was a chance for him to learn how to work in peace. But his _real_ trouble occurred to him when he encountered that _one_ customer which he hadn’t been able to categorize, let along knowing exactly _how_ he should serve him.

The man often came in at 11:00 p.m. sharp, a neon-green coloured headphone around his neck, a pile of what seemed like a mixture of document files and books in one hand and a laptop in the other. His attire was casual – simple top with a jacket over it and a pair of jeans accompanied with a pair of sports shoes. He looked like a college student at first glance. But unlike the others, he didn’t order anything when he walked in, simply sitting in a corner, always the same seat, and opened up his laptop as he typed rapidly on it without a single look at his environment.

It was when Aoba approached him the first time he’d encountered him that he looked up, his striking lime-green colour eyes instantly captivated Aoba as he coughed lightly, trying to put up his most confident smile and started,

“Do you like anything to drink?”

At first, they did nothing but staring into each other’s eyes for one whole minute. His blond-coloured hair was a colour too bright for Aoba to ignore; the piercings on his face did nothing but daunting Aoba even more. He didn’t seem like a person who belonged in this place but when he spoke, he spoke in fluent Japanese, releasing a weight from beneath Aoba’s chest.

“Give me your best drink.”

That was all he said before he returned to typing on his laptop, completely ignoring Aoba.

He didn’t know what the deal with his guy was and he wasn’t prepared, nor did he have any rights to probe further on it. He was just another customer and Aoba’s job here was simply to give him the best service, nothing more.

It’d be way easier if he had someone else to attend to, though.

This specific customer came in at the oddest hour – an hour when people would rather spend their time in restaurants and bars than in a quiet, old-fashioned café like this. Thanks to his shift, Aoba was left alone with this specific person, hearing nothing but the sound of him typing on his laptop echoing around the quiet space as he tried very hard not to peek on him.

He often closed his laptop at 1:00 a.m. at night, one hour before the end of Aoba’s shift as he stood from his seat and walked out of the café without another word.

Aoba couldn’t help but being all vigilant around this suspicious person, just in case he’d suddenly walk towards the counter and rob him or something. But when he cleared his table, he noticed that not only that the strange man finished everything he prepared for him to the last drop, but he would also leave him generous amount of tips –

Sometimes even costing more than the drink itself.

He didn’t know why he’d do that; he wanted to find out, but he thought perhaps observing him for a little longer would be a better idea.

Just in case.

 

* * *

 

 

He never ordered a specific type of drink every time he was here. It was always “Anything” or “Give me your best drink”, which didn’t help Aoba the slightest. He had no idea what this person liked and the last thing he needed was to offend his customer and earn him an undeserving complaint. But he was in no place to force an order out of his customer either so every time the said customer gave him the same response again, he’d find himself scratching his head behind the counter as he scanned through the menu, trying very hard to find something that might interest the person.

Once, he even tried to search for a hint in the man’s tone – Did the way he said “anything” with a low voice meant anything at all? Did the way he emphasized on “best” meant he was asking for the drink of the day? He thought doing so would help him understand his customer better; but instead, it backfired on him.

It confused him even further.

After countless times of random brewing, he decided to conduct a short experiment.

For the first few nights, he served the customer with sweet drinks – Café au lait, white coffee, Red tie, to name a few – then peeking at his reaction from behind the counter. It was one of the most obvious things of the stranger that he’d discovered. Despite the all-time impassive expression the man wore on his face, Aoba would notice a change of look whenever he tasted his coffee. He still remembered how one corner of his lips curved up when he tasted the unpredictable _yuanyang_ Aoba had prepared for him, which he was then rewarded by tips two times more than the price of the drink itself. From then on, Aoba decided to take a closer look of his reaction, especially when he took the drink in his first try.

A few sweet attempts later, Aoba decided to change his strategy. He didn’t even need to walk up to the man to ask if he needed any drinks anymore. Whenever he stepped in – still 11:00 p.m. sharp every night – he’d find a cup of beverage, served hot and ready on his usual seat. The second week he walked in though, he couldn’t smell the usual sweet taste anymore, replaced instead by a rather bland smell that drew a frown on his face.

He looked at the coffee on his table – it was black, and looked unfathomable. Then, he looked at Aoba, who was wiping the counter and giving no attention to him. Sitting down, he took the drink up, smelled it, and drank it.

He almost spilled the drink.

It was bitter, and it left a bad taste on his mouth.

“You don’t like Americano?” Aoba asked from afar.

The man merely gave him what seemed like a scowl before he pushed the drink aside, opening his laptop and started typing away, seemingly without any intention to continue the conversation.

Aoba knew that he’d hit the wrong button but he couldn’t help giving out a smile when he noticed how drastic the man’s change of expression was.

He might not want to have a conversation with him. But at this moment, Aoba could clearly feel that they had created a bond with each other – one that didn’t require more words between them to form a mutual understanding.

 

* * *

 

 

He stopped serving him bitter drinks after that incident and returned to serving him sweet coffees. But that was not all he did. He ended up writing small notes on a small piece of paper and put it alongside his drink when he served it. They weren’t anything too complicated, though, mostly simple messages like “I’m Aoba, nice to meet you.” and “I hope you like the drink today.” and sometimes “I hope everything went well today.”

He didn’t expect the man to respond, seeing how reluctant he was to even _look_ at Aoba. But he thought it was fun to watch how focused the man looked when he saw the message for the first time, then the next, and the next. He seemed like he was having his own thought and for a moment, he looked even confused, a change of response that intrigued Aoba to no end.

Sure, this man might looked emotionless at most times, but the reactions Aoba had seen from him told him enough that this man was perfectly human and a human possessed emotions, regardless if he intended to express them or not.

Soon, he found himself picking up greater courage, even starting to direct questions at the man:

> _“What is your name?”_  
>  _“Are you a college student?”_  
>  _“Where do you stay?”_  
>  _“What’s your favourite drink?”_

As usual, he didn’t expect a reply. But he couldn’t deny the fact that they were questions that he genuinely wanted to know the answers to. He tried not to hold too much hope but he couldn’t help but sigh when he found his piece of paper untouched and unanswered, clipped under the mountain of tips dollars whenever he went to clean up the desk.

He didn’t even know why he was so persistent with this man. He thought he looked like a troubled kid, and it was probably best not to meddle with a man like him. But he also thought he looked troubled, and he thought he was probably not very good with interactions himself and perhaps that was why he was so hesitant, or rather, never wanted to conduct any communication at all with Aoba.

The more he thought about it, the more curious he became.

It didn’t take too long for him to direct all his curiosity towards Koujaku, hoping that the three-year barista knew at least _something_ about the weird man.

“Oh, you mean that guy who always comes in at 11:00 p.m.?”

Aoba hadn’t even finished his description before Koujaku confirmed his question. Without waiting for an answer, Koujaku let out a loud sigh.

“I don’t know what’s with him either. He comes in, sits, does his own thing, then leaves. It’s almost like he’s using this place as a sort of refuge or something.”

 _Refuge…_ The word didn’t ring well in Aoba’s ears.

“But usually we just serve him whatever that comes up in our mind and leaves him alone. As long as he doesn’t cause any troubles, then you should just let him be.”

He wasn’t going to just ‘let him be’.

Koujaku’s descriptions only heightened his curiosity, burning his desire to know more about the man.

The next time he walked in, Aoba had already put his drink on the table, peeking at him from behind the counter once again before he went back to work, his head buzzing with all the questions he was burning to ask.

“ _Do you want to be friends?_ ” was the note he’d left him tonight. As usual, he wasn’t expecting any response either. This man was probably tired of him and was already ignoring him from day one. It frustrated Aoba to know that he was just being hopeful for nothing when the other never shared mutual feelings as him from the very beginning.

As he gave out a sigh, he heard the sound of chair moving, looking up just in time to see the man leaving.

This was bad, he thought. He was completely occupied with possibilities and it was starting to affect his working efficiency. Slapping both hands against his face, he straightened up, walked towards the table to clean it up when he found something new – something that he’d never seen before on the table.

Something that made his heart race.

 

“ _My name is Noiz._ ”

 


	2. Notes Over Coffee

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aoba gets to know more about the mysterious man. Koujaku is wary, but Aoba is confident.   
> And soon, his expectation becomes true.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm trying out a new style to update mutlichapter stories. Instead of huge one chapter like I used to do, I'm going with the short chapter with quick updates route. I hope you are comfortable with this kind of updating style! c:

Noiz was still not very outspoken even after he’d left Aoba that piece of message. The next time he appeared in the shop again, Aoba greeted him with a big smile, just to find him looking away as soon as they made eye contact. If Aoba was to stare for two seconds longer, he might even be able to spot the small hint of blush that had appeared on Noiz’s cheeks the moment he saw him.

Noiz paced towards his usual seat, the ‘Reserved’ plate on the table once again drawing a frown out of him. He knew Aoba was the one who’d put it there, but it was an unnecessary act. _Everyone_ knew that _this_ was his seat and no one was going to sit on it unless risking a lethal glare from Noiz when he came. Besides, no one was going to visit the café at this hour anyway.

He didn’t see the point of making such a redundant gesture, just like he didn’t see why Aoba needed to spend so much time on _just another_ customer like himself.

He settled himself on the seat, placed his laptop and his stack of books gracefully on the table when he halted all of his movements – something wasn’t quite right; rather, something was _missing_.

“Do you like anything to drink?”

Noiz looked up. Aoba was standing right beside him, a menu on his hand and a bright smile on his face. He’d never spoken to him ever since the first time they met. This sudden shift of pace must be due to the note he’d left him yesterday.

To be perfectly honest to himself, he wasn’t even sure why he’d left Aoba a note the previous night. He read all the notes Aoba left him, practically able to memorize his handwriting now. He knew the answers to all of Aoba’s questions, but he couldn’t answer the ‘whys’ in his own head. Aoba’s ‘ _Do you want to be friends?_ ’ was probably his last straw. It hit him harder than any other questions he’d thrown at him. And before he knew it, he’d written a reply, frowned at his own life decision, and hesitated for the rest of the thirty minutes until he got distracted, totally forgetting to pick the note up before he left the café and only remembered about it when he was already reaching home.

He staggered, turning back with every intention to retrieve the note but before he could do exactly that, he realized that it had been fifteen minutes since he left the café and if Aoba wasn’t side-tracked by something else, he would’ve seen the note in the next minute Noiz had left the place.

He let out a heavy sigh. This wasn’t his intention. He never wanted to be involved with anyone, let alone a barista whom he barely knew. But what done was done. He decided to take the consequence as spontaneous as he could, acting as if nothing happened, if possible.

But he ended up tossing around in his bed for the next few hours and having to suppress his intense desire to fall asleep when the ray of morning sunlight poured into the room.

For a moment, he had no idea how to face Aoba at all. They’d been communicating via written notes for as long as he could remember – well, Aoba did, at least – but now that he felt a slight change between their usual customer-barista relationship, he suddenly had no idea at all of how to counter this.

“I’ll give you three options then, if you can’t make up your mind.”

Aoba seemed to have noticed his struggle as he raised three fingers up for Noiz to see.

“You don’t seem to like bitter ones so I’ll propose the sweet ones. The first one,” he said, now pointing up one index finger at Noiz instead. “ _Affogato_. It’s a combination of espresso, vanilla and gelato, topped with hot espresso shot. The second one,” he added another finger alongside the first. “ _Café latte_. It’s made of steamed milk and espresso, I’ll draw a foam bunny for you if you’re to choose this one. And last but not least,” he raised a third finger. “Instant coffee. Well, I guess I don’t need to explain about this but if you don’t feel like anything thick today, you can go with this one. Now,” he waved three of the fingers in front of Noiz. “Choose, sir.”

Noiz was somewhat taken aback by Aoba’s sudden enthusiasm. For the entire time, he merely fixed his gaze on him, unsure of what to say or how to react. Aoba was still waiting for his answer, but his thought was elsewhere. He couldn’t care less about what type of coffee he was to drink today, but it concerned him greatly for appearing like an idiot now that Aoba had taken charge of the wheel.

“Hm, hm,” Aoba hummed after a two minutes lack of response. “It seems like I’ve given you a difficult task. In that case, I’ll just—“

“The second one.”

“Huh?”

He blurted his words out of his own conscious. But it was too late for him to take back. Aoba obviously heard him – the surprised expression he was giving him now had confirmed it.

“A-ah, I see! Okay then! I’ll get to prepare your drink. Please wait for a moment.”

He almost wanted to crash his head hard on the coffee table. There was just _something_ about Aoba that had bothered him ever since he first knew him. Bother might not be the right word, he thought as he rubbed his temple with a thumb.

…Intrigued, maybe.

He opened his laptop with force so strong he almost broke it.

He could no longer focus on his work; the complicated codes no longer registered in his head. Sighing, he turned his head to look at Aoba instead, who was humming happily to his music as he worked on his drink. He’d never taken a good look at Aoba before; all he knew about him was his fatal passion – or rather persistence – that seemed to be part of his personality and his light brown-coloured eyes and his long, wavy hair that was often tied up in a high ponytail and how he pouted when he encountered a complex recipe or how he—

… that was quite a long list of ‘things he knows about Aoba.’

Shaking his head, he tried to return his attention to the laptop screen, scowling when he realized that he’d been doing everything wrong from the very beginning. At this rate, he’d only give himself more unnecessary problems if he was to continue with his work. Giving up, he leaned back against his chair, pushing the laptop aside and glancing out of the window instead.

There weren’t a lot of people on the road, the summer night seemed a lot lonelier than usual. It reflected his inner thoughts perfectly. His world had always been quiet and calm; no one had ever intruded his privacy, and he found no reason to be involved with anything else that won’t benefit him either.

This whole situation was a miscalculation. He shouldn’t be bothered by the new barista anyhow, just like how the previous baristas never bothered about him. But when he was being pushed into such great and tempting enthusiasm, one that was so very different from the way he worked, he could no longer deny his own genuine impression – it was a change that he was looking for, one that piqued his interest greatly.

Aoba was perhaps the only person who’d treated him as someone other than ‘a troublesome person’.

“Here you go!”

Aoba’s voice pulled him back from his own realm of thoughts. The cup of latte had been placed in front of him when he turned his attention back from the streets to the drink. The mere sight in front of him made his heart skip a beat.

“Foam bunny, as promised!” Aoba grinned lustrously. “I spent more time than usual for the decoration. You better drink it to the final drop, okay?”

He could make that much – the details, no matter how small they were, were way too obvious for him to miss. The rabbit had three whiskers on each side of its face, pink blush on its cheeks and it was _smiling_ at him with closed eyes. He didn’t see the point of spending so much effort on something that would be destroyed in the next second. Aoba’s actions kept confusing him and it frustrated him even more when the answers to all his doubts weren’t in sight at this very moment.

“How do you know?” Noiz asked instead, finally looking up at Aoba. Through his black-rimmed glasses, he could see sweat trickling down Aoba’s face, the apron he was wearing around his lower half stained with cream that was obviously from his cup of latte.

“Know about what?” Aoba returned him the question as he wiped the sweat off with the back of his hand.

“This,” Noiz pointed at the foam.

“Oh, the bunny?” Aoba was still smiling, his grin only turned wider and Noiz knew that it was stemmed from the fact that _he_ had shown a sign of interest, the first time ever since they met. Instead of answering him, Aoba pointed at his bag. “There’s bunny-shaped key holders all over your bag.”

He thought he’d discarded all of those. Clicking his tongue, Noiz looked away, shifting his attention to the latte instead.

“Enjoy your drink!”

He thought Aoba was going to stay longer now that he’d successfully make Noiz talk. But he returned to the counter as soon as he was done with serving, taking his apron off and proceeding to wash the espresso machine instead.

He couldn’t understand Aoba. It was disconcerting him. He thought he’d known human behaviour enough for him to keep a distance away from them.

But Aoba was different.

Aoba was… not the usual type of human he was used to deal with.

And _that_ , was interesting.

 

* * *

 

He’d noticed how Noiz was slowly opening up to him from the short conversation they’d shared. Feeling proud of himself, he finished up the last of his shift, closed the shop, and put a jacket around himself as he walked out of the cafe.

The summer air was humid, but nothing else mattered anymore now that he’d finally managed a proper conversation with a seemingly hard customer.

He wanted to know more about this mysterious man – he hadn’t answered almost all the questions he’d thrown at him. The only answer he’d obtained was his name and he thought it was a good step to make him reveal more about himself.

He thought he should tell Koujaku the next day when he came in for his shift again.

 

* * *

 

“What? You spoke to him?” Koujaku’s jaw dropped, the glass he was cleaning put aside, completely abandoned.

“Uhuh,” Aoba replied casually, picking the glass up and wiping the stains off it.

“So did he say anything interesting?” his fellow barista, Mizuki, sneaked in, literally climbed over the counter, and snooping at him with gleaming, obviously interested eyes.

“I just got to know his name,” Aoba said, placing the glass back on the cabinet. “I’m not telling any of you.”

“What? Why?” Mizuki whined. “Sharing is caring, Aoba.”

“Well, none of you did any effort to at least _try_ talking to him,” Aoba said with a mocking tone. “It’s _our_ secret.”

Mizuki laughed; Koujaku pulled Aoba to one side and slung an arm over his neck, almost choking him.

“Listen, Aoba. He’s a suspicious man. It’s better for more people to know what’s going on than keeping it to yourself. At least we’ll know what to do if anything is to happen.”

“C’mon, Koujaku,” Aoba struggled himself out of Koujaku’s clutch. “He’s just a young man.”

“A young man that comes in everyday, on the same time, and doing nothing but keeping to himself at all times? No matter how I’m to look at him, he’s _suspicious_ , Aoba.”

Koujaku had a point. But something in Aoba was stopping him from revealing anything more about Noiz. He’d finally found out about his name, he didn’t want to spoil more opportunities to know him further.

“Trust me,” he placed both of his hands on Koujaku’s shoulders. “I know what I’m doing. If I sense trouble, you’ll be the first person I’ll tell, okay?”

“Yeah, Koujaku,” Mizuki said from afar. “Aoba’s not a kid anymore. He knows what he’s getting himself into.”

Mizuki was perhaps the best person to know how far both Koujaku and Aoba’s history went, and he was perhaps the only person Koujaku would take advice from besides Aoba.

Koujaku sighed, gazing sternly into Aoba’s eyes before he said,

“Well, you promised. Anything, ring me.”

Aoba nodded with a smile.

Noiz wasn’t a terrorist, he was just a troubled man. Aoba could tell that much.

A troubled man never wanted their privacy to be invaded. And Aoba wanted to respect that.

 

* * *

 

He continued leaving Noiz small notes after their very brief conversation the other day. He thought of giving Noiz space to react to this change. And when he found a replying note when he cleaned the table after Noiz’s departure, he knew that he’d taken the right step after all.

If he was to ask simple questions like “ _How old are you?_ ” he’d find an answer – “ _Nineteen._ ” – clipped under the tips. If he was to ask questions that he was totally betting his chance against – “ _Why do you come here every day?_ ”  he’d find a blank paper in return, instantly telling him that he’d taken things too fast.

But regardless, he knew that they’d made a big step. Noiz was obviously responding to him now and it’d only take a little more time for them to be able to conduct normal conversation.

He’d need to try harder, Aoba decided.

In due course, 11:00 p.m. became the time he looked forward to every day. At 11:00 p.m. sharp, Noiz would walk into the café as usual, a laptop in one hand, a pile of books in the other, and a bag with bunny-shaped holders all over slung over his shoulder.

There wasn’t a day when Noiz never turned up, including weekends. Even on bad weathers, he would still show up in the café, sometimes drenched from head to toe if there was rain, sometimes sweating all over when the weather was too hot. Aoba would contain a chuckle then, either borrowing him one of the umbrellas from the shop or giving him extra serviettes to wipe his sweat when it happened. It also aided Aoba determine if he should prepare a warm or cold drink for him, especially helpful when Noiz was still handing the decision of the type of beverage to drink that night to Aoba.

It wasn’t hard to grasp the taste of this young man. He liked his coffee sweet, not too thick, not too condensed; everything in a moderate amount.

Eventually, days passed, then weeks.

It’d become a routine. They didn’t need more verbal words between each other to form a bond, their notes became more and more casual over time – “ _You look like a mess today!_ ”, “ _Says the one who has cream stain all over his face._ ” – and Aoba knew it was not before long that they’d take another step towards knowing each other better.

But even though he’d expected it, it still caught him off guard when he read the note Noiz left him one day, in response to his “ _I wonder what you do when you’re not here._ ”

He needed to read the note for at least two more times to confirm what he was reading.

 

“ _Would you like to go out with me?_ ”

 


	3. First Date

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It was a date Aoba never expected; but that was not the only thing he'd never expected. He was on a path of more unexpected incidents.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still at build-up but next chapter is a turning point :3

It had been pouring heavily for days now. Even though there were sunnier days when one could actually catch a glimpse of the sun, the air was covered with abundant moistness otherwise, the atmosphere quiet, sometimes a bit chaotic, but peaceful at most times.

Aoba still kept the reply note Noiz had left on the table, as with every other notes he’d picked up whenever the questionable man left. Noiz didn’t respond too much most of the times, hence making the notes more precious than usual. Aoba could recognize Noiz’s handwriting now. It was refined, slightly cursive at the final stroke and definitely unique. It wasn’t one that Aoba would expect from someone as stolid as Noiz; but he never knew what to expect from Noiz since the very start anyway. He read somewhere that the handwriting of a person could tell a lot about the person who wrote it, specifically the spirit of a person because one’s handwriting was supposed to reflect exactly that in a physical, visible format. With that thought, he found himself constantly analyzing the words every time he received a new one, attempting to read Noiz’s personality from them, as with all the endeavor he’d make from observing Noiz from afar.

Noiz never left him anything else after that note, though, evidently waiting for his reply. It was ironic how their positions were switched now. _Aoba_ was the one who was so used to making the effort; he was the one who did most of the waiting. But now, he was struggling to answer Noiz, making his opponet wait instead. He could almost feel how Noiz felt every time he was to scrunch out a response.

It was exactly three days later that Noiz found an “Okay.” note on his usual seat. When his eyes found Aoba’s, Aoba looked away almost immediately, pretending to be wiping an already too-clean coffee cup. Releasing an inaudible sigh, Noiz stood up from his seat and walked straight towards the counter, catching Aoba red-handed.

“When is your off day?”

Aoba almost dropped the cup. A restrained cough later (an action way too overt to go unnoticed), he finally looked up, facing Noiz upfront.

“I haven’t decided yet,” he said.

“You mean you can decide when you want to take a break?” Noiz inquired, still as deadpan as usual.

“Technically, yeah. Though I’d need to inform Koujaku first.”

“Hmmm,” Noiz gave out a short hum before he flashed his phone up, scrolling through his calendar. “Does next Tuesday sound good to you?”

Aoba leaned over to read the calendar too - Tuesday was... three days away from now. It shouldn’t be a problem, he thought, especially when Koujaku had asserted him to take a break once in a while. Settling himself back behind the counter, he nodded, taking his own cell phone up to mark the date.

“Tuesday it is, then.”

 

And so, it was two whole days of cumbersome silence between them. Noiz still came in every day, at 11:00 p.m., and minding his own business while Aoba found himself having difficulties to manage even half-witted written conversation with him. His messages had returned to the initial “Nice to see you here again!” note and, as expected, he received no reply, causing him to worry if he’d just imagined the counter conversation they had two days back. But right as the clock stroke 1:00 a.m., Noiz left, leaving behind a “See you tomorrow, here, 12:00 p.m.” as Aoba caressed his chest, pacifying the uncertainty within himself.

And now, on Tuesday, since 10:00 a.m. in the morning, he had been sitting in the cafe, at Noiz’s usual seat and gazing blankly out of the window. He didn’t want to be late, and it was always better to be early than late, especially knowing how punctual Noiz could be - one trait that Aoba had read from his behavior. Rain had been unmerciful as usual today; Aoba could only hope that the unkind weather wouldn’t affect much of their plans for today - if only they had one; well, if only _Noiz_ had one, since _he_ was the one who’d asked him out for a... date. People were running for cover, umbrellas were opened to counter the spatting beads from the clouds, and he could clearly hear the whispering of rain through the window.

He was momentarily lost in the peaceful atmosphere when he heard the bell rang, turning around just in time to see Noiz walking through the door, drenched from head to toe.

It was only 11:00 a.m.

“Noiz!” He sprung up from his chair, suddenly feeling too queasy for his own good. He thought he’d have more time to prepare himself before he had to face him.

Noiz seemed to be astounded himself. He jerked his head over the moment he heard his own name, the initial frown softened when he saw Aoba.

“You’re early,” Noiz walked towards him, wiping on his wet on his face with the back of his hand as he paced.

“You too. And you’re all wet! Didn’t you bring an umbrella?”

“...Forgot,” Noiz mumbled under his breath.

Noiz was dressed slightly different from usual today. He still had his black-rimmed glasses on his face, the lenses now covered with water droplets from the rain; one trait that had Aoba planting the ‘college student’ label on him when he first saw him. But his attire was more casual than before; instead of the usual jacket Aoba was so used to seeing on him, he was now wearing a sleeveless white-colored cardigan over a simple green T-shirt. He wasn’t carrying anything this time, none of his laptop and books were in sight. He was swiping the water out of his hair when Aoba ran to the counter and requested for a small towel from Mizuki, who’d started to eye them suspiciously with a hint of tease the moment Noiz stepped into the place.

“Here you go.” He handed Noiz the towel. While he took it and continued dying himself, he fixed his gaze on Aoba, obviously scanning him from head to toe.

“You look nice today,” Aoba said in an attempt to break the silence between them. Noiz’s eyes brightened. It wasn’t something new he’d heard from Aoba but it still felt surreal to hear the words directly from the man itself like this.

“I say the same to you,” Noiz responded, his eyes still on Aoba, who was wearing a casual blue top with a white sweater, matching pants and a pair of sports shoes. It was perhaps the first time Noiz had seen him out of his working uniform. “You didn’t tie your hair up today.”

“Oh, yeah. I usually tie it up just so it wouldn’t disturb me from working.”

Noiz let out a smirk. “Nice.”

Aoba’s jaw dropped. He hadn’t expected Noiz to act so straightforwardly, never occurred to him that he’d be such when he used to face so much difficulties trying to communicate with him even on paper.

“Thank you, I guess. Would you be okay to go out like this? I mean, you’re all wet and such. I can wait if you want to go back and change, or something,” he ended, quickly diverting the topic so that he won’t embarrass himself further.

Noiz passed the wet towel back to Aoba, then turned to look at the weather outside the window.

“It’s fine for me.” Moving his eyes back to Aoba, he smirked at him instead. “How about you?”

“Me?” Aoba asked, dumbfounded. “Oh, you mean the weather? It’s fine, I’ve brought an umbrella along. I can borrow one from the shop for you, since you didn’t brin--”

“Doesn’t matter,” Noiz cut him off, already turning his back towards him and making his way to the door. “We can share one.”

He didn’t intend to make himself appear more gawky than he already was. But when Noiz looked over his shoulder, clearly asking him why he wasn’t following him, he felt as if anything he did at this point would only put him one step behind Noiz’s pace.

He needed a change of strategy.

 

 

The downpour wasn’t any less merciless than when Aoba remembered it to be. When they stepped out of the shop, they were immediately greeted by a huge gush of wind, hitting directly in their faces as Aoba fought with the force to open up his umbrella.

“Let me help.” Noiz placed his hand on the handle, easing Aoba’s struggle as pushed the umbrella open, just before the wind changed it’s course of direction and almost drowning them in complete wetness.

Holding the umbrella above them, they took one step out of their shelter, the chilliness of the surrounding air hitting them straight in the bones.

“How did you even manage to make it through this weather without an umbrella?” Aoba was almost shouting to make himself audible. But Noiz didn’t come back with a reply. With a mere shrug, he urged them to move through the pool of umbrella-holding crowd, leading the way and leaving Aoba to wonder what he had in store for them today.

“Where are we going?” he asked, the curiosity within him too unbearable as they turned a second corner which led them into a street Aoba wasn’t familiar with.

“A cafe,” Noiz replied plainly, Aoba almost losing him when a car started honking from afar.

He thought he’d misheard him until they _really_ stopped in front of a cafe, one that looked oddly similar to the one Aoba worked in.

He was about to ask Noiz more about his intention but Noiz was already walking towards the door, leaving him no choice but to follow unless risking a wet walk.

“Welcome!”

Working in a coffee shop for two months had undoubtedly heightened his intuitive intimacy for cafe-like settings. The cafe they were in was very like the one he worked in - it had a sense of traditional, antique style to it. The walls were maroon red in color, with chestnut tables and chairs scattering around the place. There was a warm, strong aroma of ground coffee beans in the air, accompanied by low murmurs of customers engaging in their own conversation. It left Aoba in a state of awe.

Noiz had already moved to a corner then, one spot that looked similarly to the one that he often conquered when he was in Aoba’s cafe. Following him, Aoba kept his eyes around, reading the menu from over his shoulder and checking out the staff - one waiter serving a cup of what seemed like cappuccino from the shape of the cup and another barista tampering with an espresso machine with a confused expression on his face. It was when he finally settled down opposite Noiz that he returned his attention to his partner-of-the-day.

“Say, Noiz, do you think--”

“Welcome to City Cafe! Do you like anything to drink?” The waiter whom had been serving a drink earlier had approached them, two menus in a hand and a tray in another.

“Two _Breve_ ,” Noiz replied almost instantly.

“Got it! Please wait for a moment while we prepare your drinks. In the meantime,” the waiter pulled two lifestyle magazines from a nearby rack. “Feel free to have a read.”

“This is what you don’t have in your shop,” Noiz waved one magazine at Aoba before he pushed it towards him. “The _Breve_ is their best-seller, in case you’re wondering why I ordered it.”

Aoba _was_ curious, but not at the drink; rather, he was curious as to why Noiz decided to bring him to _another_ coffee shop when they could’ve spent their time somewhere else that wasn’t the place they were already more than familiar with.

“What’s with that face?” Noiz asked, noticing that Aoba had been staring fixedly at him for the past two minutes. When Aoba looked away, a small frown appeared in between his eyebrows. Emitting a placid sigh, he gazed away as well, raising one hand up to take his glasses off and was about to wipe the driblet off the lenses when Aoba turned around.

“I’ve been wanting to ask...” he started slowly, eyes fixed more intensely on Noiz than before. “Is there something wrong with your eyes?”

Noiz’s action hitched ever so slightly before he set his glasses aside nonchalantly as he shifted his gaze and set it on Aoba’s. Now that Aoba could see his eyes, he discovered that they were a brilliant color of lime green, emphatically penetrating and definitely alert-looking. When Noiz looked at him, he could sense a hint of profoundness, but also a tinge of uncertainty from within it. As with how he’d over-analyze everything about Noiz from the top to the bottom, he stared unconsciously at his eyes, as if attempting to read the barely visible emotions from within until Noiz waved a hand in front of him, pulling him back from his own thoughts.

“Nothing’s wrong with them,” Noiz admitted.

“Then why...”

Noiz shrugged. Just when Aoba was about to voice his own speculation out, the waiter returned with their drinks, salvaging them from the disengaging conversation.

“Try,” Noiz pushed the cup along with the saucer slightly towards Aoba.

Aoba did as he was told. He sniffed at the aroma as with how he was used to do with every drink he’d made for every customer before he took in a sip, a thin frown immediately appearing on his face.

“What do you think?” Noiz asked, his own drink cast aside.

“The ratio for espresso and steamed milk is balanced. It’s a perfectly blended drink,” Aoba said after a two-second pause.

“I’m not asking about how well made the drink is,” Noiz dissented. “I’m asking if you like it.”

“O-oh,” Aoba gaped, quickly taking another sip before he commented again. “It’s too sweet for my taste.”

Noiz only responded with a nod before he brought the cup up for a sip of his own.

“Let’s go,” he said, discarding the cup aside without finishing it.

“H-huh? Wait, Noiz!”

He didn’t understand what displeased Noiz about the place, or the coffee; but what he understood was that the tips he’d left on the table was a lot lesser than what he usually left for Aoba.

 

For the next few coffee shops they visited, Noiz repeated the same thing as he did for the first they went. By the end of the day, Aoba was physically bloated with all kinds of coffee in his stomach - _Cortado_ , Eggnog latte, even one glass of Kaffee Kirsch to end their cafe visits. It was already dinner time when they were done with their third and final cafe. Grasping onto Noiz’s wrist the moment they stepped out of the coffee shop - Ivory Cafe, one which was decorated heavily with ivory-colored theme from the walls to the furniture even to the uniforms of the staff in the shop - Aoba heaved his breath, giving Noiz a stern look at the same time.

“I don’t know what you have in mind. All I know that is that my stomach will explode if I am to take more coffee. Please tell me we aren’t going to a coffee shop again. Not at dinner time!”

Noiz no longer had his glasses on, giving Aoba a vivid view of his eyes. Noticing that he’d been gazing falteringly along the street of shops, he playfully pushed Noiz on the arm, then canting over to smirk impishly at him.

“Does dinner sound good? I know just the right place to go.”

He didn’t know where would be a good place for dinner; but Noiz’s indecisiveness when he suggested the sudden change of plan was way too obvious for him to miss. If he didn’t put a stop to whatever Noiz was about to do now, he’d definitely end up having to deal with another round of thick-flavored cup of coffee for dinner.

Aoba’s suggested dining place turned out to be Aoba’s own cafe.

“Ah, it’s so nice being back here!” Aoba exclaimed the moment he pushed the door open. “This is the best cafe ever!”

“Aoba, I thought you’re not working tod-- oh,” Koujaku looked up from the drink he was preparing the moment he heard the ringing of the bell, but halted his words when he saw Noiz following closely behind him.

“Yup, I’m not working today. But I’m coming in as a customer. Is there a problem?” Aoba grinned playfully.

“Of course not,” Koujaku ended his words with a laugh. “Have a seat. And your drink...?”

“Give me your best shot!”

“Got it!”

“C’mon,” Aoba pulled on Noiz’s cardigan, prodding him to their seat, which turned out to be one of Noiz’s usual seats.

The change of atmosphere signified a change of position. Now that he was back in his own station, he felt a regain of dominance, giving him back his voice and completely in control with what he intended to do in the next hour they were to spend here.

“Hold on,” he whispered at Noiz before he rushed up to the counter, spoke a few words with Koujaku, and made his way back after exchanging a thumbs-up with the barista-on-duty.

“What was that?” Noiz asked.

“We’re supposed to have dinner now, I’ve asked for some food for us.”

“You sell food here?”

“Of course, we’re a cafe after all!” Aoba said, loftiness evident in his voice. Then, leaning forward so that he was near enough for Noiz to hear his whisper. “You’ll be impressed.”

Noiz mirrored his smirk and, intimidating him, leaning forward as well until their noses were merely inches apart.

“We shall see, _barista_.”

“H-hey, stop that, I’m off work today,” Aoba retreated with a pout as he crossed his arms, a sign of discontentment.

“Well then, _Aoba_ ,” Noiz followed, still with the smirk on his face. “What’s on the menu today? I thought we aren’t going to another cafe anymore but.. Correct me if I’m wrong, is this not a cafe? Of if it’s something else in disguise.”

Breaking into a smile, Aoba raised three fingers up, a similar gesture to how he’d probed Noiz with his drink the other day.

“Shut it. This _is_ a cafe but I thought it’d be a great chance to tell you how delicious our food are since you never ordered any. Okay, as for the menu - The first on the list: mashed potatoes, completely homemade and handmade! The second, Country Fried Steak-- hey, stop with that face,” Aoba paused when Noiz gave him an expression that shouted nothing but one that told Aoba that he’d been suppressing his chortle for a while now. “Don’t underestimate these simple-sounding food. They sound simple, perhaps even _look_ simple but they’re definitely one which would give make your mouth water!”

“I’m not underestimating them at all,” Noiz shrived. “I’m more amused with your face.”

“What?” A thin hint flush shaded his feature, eliciting a strong sense of self-conscious within himself.

“You never sounded so excited when you were eating in other shops but your own,” Noiz explained. “The charm of this cafe, huh?” He ended with a quick glimpse around the place, then returning his attention to Aoba just in time to see him gaping at him. “And what’s the third item on the list?”

Aoba coughed loudly, distracting them from the unnecessary interruption before he lifted his index finger up, shoving it in between their eyes.

“Last but not least, we have our best-selling Chef Salad! With a mix of smoked turkey, cheddar cheese, and hard-boiled eggs, it’s guaranteed to end your three-course meal fantastically!”

Noiz was still gazing at him, looking completely impressed with the playful smirk still stuck on his face. It was a few seconds of silence before Aoba found himself lurching forward, giving Noiz a slap on the forehead.

“I don’t like that face, give me a break,” he complained, looking away and glaring side-way at Noiz instead.

“Do you know why I brought you to different cafes today?” Noiz asked as a change, effortlessly soothing the rigid air between them. When Aoba shook his head, he let out a smile and continued, “I want to see if you’ll be as enthusiastic as you’d be like when you’re introducing your food in this place. Just like what you did.”

His explanation did nothing but heightening Aoba’s curiosity.

“Why does that matter to you?” he asked.

“Do you remember asking me how do I spend my time when I’m not here?”

Aoba nodded.

“ _This_ is what I do.”

“Everyday?”

“Everyday.”

Aoba gaped at Noiz. “Do you mean to say you drink different types of coffee _every single day_?”

Noiz tapped his fingers on the table, taking his time to answer Aoba.

“Not only coffee. Sometimes I’d grab a bite from a nearby pizza station, sometimes some pasta.”

“But coffee,” Aoba’s tone became heavier with every word he said. “ _Everyday_.”

Noiz scowled. “What’s the problem with that?”

“’What’s the problem with that’? Are you kidding me? It’s a _huge_ problem! I mean, you got to make sure that you eat properly everyday. Drink more milk, or fruit juice, or _anything_ that’s _not_ coffee!”

“There’s milk in the coffee I drink,” Noiz replied nonchalantly. “There are pineapple slices on pizza too.”

“No, no, no, no,” Aoba shook his hands violently. “That’s not the same!”

Noiz’s scowled only deepened.

“Wait a minute.” Aoba seemed to be running through a mile of thoughts in his own brain before he held his stormy brain waves, now more composed as he looked seriously at Noiz. “Why are you so obsessed with coffee in the first place? Wait, but you don’t have a favorite, if I remember correctly. Don’t tell me you love _all_ the coffee types?”

He heard a grunt from Noiz. Realizing that he’d been too over himself the entire time, he sunk deeper into his seat, trying to calm himself down before he made further assumptions.

“Let’s not talk about work now,” Noiz said after a while.

Perhaps Noiz wasn’t ready to get too personal with him yet. Perhaps he was really indulging too much into a person who he’d met for only two months. But now that he’d found out more about how Noiz led his life, it intrigued him to no end; both his ears and brain resounded loudly of nothing but curiosity.

“This is not work, I’m not working right now,” Aoba defended. “I’m genuinely concerned about how unhealthy you can-- ah.” His words hung in midair, noticing that he’d unintentionally offended the man in front of him. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to disrespect you or intrude your way of living your life.”

“It’s fine,” Noiz said unconcernedly.

Noiz was obviously not ready to reveal more of his personal lifestyle, Aoba had noted that much. He was pushing the limit again. Feeling guilty, he was almost thankful when Koujaku served them with their cups of mocha along with their main course meals.

They needed more time, Aoba thought as they devoured their meal in silence. Once they were done, Noiz stood up first, putting his glasses back on and bidding a quick farewell at Aoba, leaving the place so fast Aoba didn’t even have the time to return his leave.

As soon as the sound of door closing echoed across the room, Aoba clutched his head, scratching into it as he grumbled, the repeated “ _I screwed up_ ” voice in his head acted like a chant so powerful he literally slammed his head against the desk to calm himself down.

“Ugh...” he rumbled. With his eyes closed, he could see nothing but the flashback of what he’d just screamed at Noiz; all he ever wanted to do now was to knock himself unconscious and forget about everything he’d done.

“Guess I’d have to apologize tomorrow then...”

But he wasn’t even sure if Noiz would return tomorrow now that he’d accidentally annoyed him. Giving out a big sigh again, he opened his eyes weakly, as if a light of hope would suddenly appear in front of him if he stared hard enough.

And he was right - there, slipped under the saucer of Noiz’s drink was a piece of note, one that Aoba was more than familiar with. He leaped forward, almost ripping the piece of paper apart when he pulled the paper open to read the message.

 

“ _See you tomorrow._ ”

 


	4. Distance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Interacting with Noiz was far more difficult than Aoba expected it to be.  
> He didn't know what he did wrong, or if he was even wrong in the first place.

He was let down.

He waited, as patiently as he could, for the clock to strike eleven. He’d bid the last customer goodbye and goodnight, eyes unconsciously darting to the wall clock, hands inattentively wiping the coffee cup dry. The wait stretched from five minutes to ten, then fifteen; the initial patience gradually turned into an unbearable wait; he got apprehensive. Noiz had _never_ been late before. He was always punctual, if not early. When thirty good minutes passed, Aoba let out a heavy sigh, the occurrence the previous day replaying in his head like a film reel.

So he ruined it after all, he concluded inwardly. Noiz was offended after all. He slumped himself on the counter, taking one final look at the clock - it was already 11:45 p.m. and there was no sign of anyone coming into the place. He might as well close the shop earlier today. He stood up, putting the clean cup back into the cabinet before he walked out of the counter to clean up some of the already overly cleaned tables, one weak excuse to distract himself from his overwhelming thoughts. He found himself glancing at the wall clock every few minutes, just to feel the weight beneath his chest became more labored with every confirmation.

He shouldn’t hope for something he knew would never happen; but he did, and the remorse continued accompanying him for the rest of the day. He genuinely wished that everything was simply him working his minds over the limit and hopefully, when the next 11:00 p.m. stroke again, he’d be able to see Noiz again; this time, he’d make sure to apologize properly.

But the next 11:00 p.m. came and went, a repetition of what happened the previous day and it put Aoba into a deeper anguish than before. He was almost _sure_ that Noiz was mad at him now. There was no any other excuse. If he wasn’t furious at him, then he wouldn’t have stopped coming like that without telling him. _Then what was with that ‘See you tomorrow’ note?_

Was he being too attached to a mere customer? Was he being too anticipative after all? He had to remind himself again than Noiz was just _another_ customer, which didn’t sit well in his head before he shook his head in an almost violent way after a few moments of implicit consideration.

Noiz was _not_ just another customer.

Probably he was caught up with something else; probably he was busy. Aoba didn’t know much about his life after all - he never knew what he did for a living after all; he never knew if he was still studying, or if he was local, or if his favourite drink was... He knew _nothing_ about Noiz.

He only had his own speculations and those were the only things that he held as a guide to help him make his coffee decision for Noiz. It was probably too soon to intrude Noiz’s personal life but now that he was put into such a dubious position, he couldn’t help but wonder if he was _really_ too relentless with Noiz – perhaps their feelings weren’t mutual after all.

 

He stared as the clock passed the 11:30 p.m. note, feeling the small bubble of hope within him burst and dissolve into nothing.

Noiz would not be coming back again. He might have just chased his first customer away.

He wasn’t particularly hopeful the next day, finally confronting the disappointment within himself. He tried hard not to be too conscious of the time. Noiz wasn’t the _only_ customer he had to serve. He needed to serve tens more, hundreds more; he worked in a coffee shop, not as Noiz’s personal barista. The reminders assaulted him again and again; the constant self-affirmation was a huge battle with himself. He told himself that being attached to _one_ specific customer won’t do him any good. There would be a lot more similar customers like Noiz and he had no time and no reason to be affianced to every single one of them.

There were a lot more things that he needed to learn from this experience. This was his first job after all. Perhaps this was one of those experiences he had to overcome to be able to learn more.

His self-reminders worked after a long immense struggle with himself. He managed to focus his entire attention into his job and eventually, he managed to squirm himself out of his own mind trap and diverted himself from thinking too much about Noiz.

He didn’t even realize that it was already 11:00 p.m. when he served a cup of cappuccino for a visiting customer. It was only when he looked up upon hearing the familiar bell-ringing of the shop’s front door that he found himself gaping at the customer that had just walked in, his remaining words completely vanished into thin air.

Noiz merely gave him a dismissive stare before he walked towards his usual seat, still acting like how Aoba remembered him to be; with his laptop and a stack of book in both hands. The only difference was perhaps the mask he was wearing over his mouth, and even though he’d avoided eye contact the moment he met Aoba’s eyes, Aoba still managed to catch a quick glimpse of his pair of unusually red eyes. He looked terrible.

Dropping everything he intended to do, Aoba rushed towards Noiz, practically _running_ his way there and almost panting when he came to where Noiz was sitting.

“Y-you’re... back...” he breathed heavily, both hands slamming on Noiz’s table and almost dropping one of the books Noiz had placed near the edge of the table.

Noiz was momentarily dismayed before he returned to his usual dismissiveness as he let out a small smile from behind his mask.

“Give me your best shot.”

It was then that Aoba was reminded that he was a barista at this very moment and Noiz was his _customer_. Clumsily straightening himself up, he gave Noiz a bright smile, “Roger that!” He was about to turn his back towards Noiz and get down to work but he stopped, a sudden thought flashed past his mind.

“Are you sick?” he asked, a voice that was a huge contrast to the one he’d just used to respond to Noiz’s request.

Noiz didn’t reply; instead, he looked up at him: Aoba could clearly see the weariness in his eyes now, and if Noiz hadn’t looked away in time, he was sure that he’d catch a glimpse of tears and flu on his face.

“It’s no big deal,” Noiz grumbled with hoarse voice, his attention returned to his laptop screen.

“Is that why you didn’t come for the past two days?” Aoba asked again. Noiz stopped typing on the laptop then. He leaned back against his chair, crossed his arms and stared fervently at Aoba, even though the tiredness in his eyes wasn’t something he could cover up so easily.

“Were you expecting me?” he asked, almost sounded like a tease but that was the least of Aoba’s concern now. It didn’t even matter to him if it was really a tease.

“Of course, you’re a regular here! Anyone would be curious if you don’t turn up suddenly like that,” he responded, voice high and urgent.

“Hm?” Noiz hummed, his expression returned to the initial impassiveness. “You’re worried only because I’m a regular?”

“What are you implying? What else would there be?”

Noiz hummed again. Looking away, he returned to his laptop, continuing his work without bothering Aoba any further.

He didn’t know what was happening. What’s with this sudden change of attitude? Did he say anything wrong? He looked at Noiz for another few moments, unsure of how to react. Then, finally acknowledging that Noiz wasn’t going to interact with him any further, he walked away and back to the counter.

What would be the best type of coffee to serve a sick person? That was the first question in Aoba’s mind as he stared at the coffee machine. Nothing too thick, nothing too heavy. It was a tricky decision. He checked the coffee beans, then looked up to read the big blackboards of menu above his head. He had never served a sick person before. If ever, the most he’d prepare for a person who was obviously unwell would definitely be...

...plain water.

He grabbed one of the glasses from the cabinet, washed it, and filled it with a glassful of plain, warm water before he took a peek at Noiz - he was still typing on his laptop, giving out occasional coughs as he rubbed his temple. He _definitely_ looked sick; it was _no_ big deal, yeah right. Aoba let out a sigh, suddenly regretting not forcing Noiz to return for a cleanup before they headed into town two days before. He felt partly responsible for putting Noiz through this woeful experience.

Holding the glass of water in his hand, he walked back towards Noiz and, without warning, sat opposite him then putting the glass by his stack of books.

Noiz looked up upon hearing the sound. He scowled at the water, then sending a stare at Aoba’s direction.

“Is water a new type of coffee on the menu?” he asked, voice small and powerless.

“Nope. This is on Seragaki Aoba’s menu. And you don’t need to pay anything for this,” Aoba said confidently.

“The last I remember, I ordered a _coffee_ , barista,” he said. Even without the need to see his mouth, Aoba knew that he was smirking at him from behind his mask.

“You’re wrong,” he corrected. Well, it was rare but definitely interesting to see someone as observant and as careful as Noiz to spell the wrong fact like this, in such a surefooted but inaccurate way. “You said ‘Give me your best shot’. Based on my observation, a glass of water is definitely the best shot I can provide you now.”

Noiz could only gaze, completely speechless at the comeback. Truth was, he’d said that out of his own conscious; his mind in a messy state of mush, he wasn’t even sure what he was saying or thinking anymore.

“How are you feeling, anyway? If you aren’t feeling well, you shouldn’t even be coming out today.”

His question was bona fide, and Noiz knew that his intention was no less genuine as well. He was sincerely worried about him, especially when he’d darted his gaze towards the sky outside the window, telling Noiz just enough that he was considering how bad the weather recently was that did nothing but amplifying the concern within him. It was a surreal feeling - one that he had no idea how to confront.

“Like I said, it’s no big--”

“Definitely not,” Aoba interrupted in a sarcastic manner. “Of course there’s no big deal, Noiz. Look at how red your eyes are, look at how weak your voice is, look at how pale you look like now. _Of course_ it’s no big deal.”

He had no idea how to come out with a good comeback, let alone knowing how to confront the sudden complicated emotions he felt from within his chest.

“It’ll get better soon,” he replied simply, purposely avoiding eye contact with Aoba now that he’d noticed how much Aoba had been observing every part of his features. Truth was, he _was_ exhausted; his eyes stung when he kept them opened for a bit too long, he felt as if he could fall asleep anytime soon if he hadn’t been struggling to keep himself awake.

“You would, if you take proper care of yourself. But I highly doubt so,” Aoba continued, speaking before Noiz could make a retort.

“I know how to take care of myself.” As expected, Noiz defended himself, but Aoba already had his own set of comeback then.

“Coming from a man who only eats pizza and pasta and only drinks coffee?” His words sounded more like a reprimand than anything else.

Noiz gave up then. He stopped typing, looking up to meet Aoba’s eyes, just slightly taken aback when he noticed how stern Aoba’s stare was right now.

“You don’t know anything about me.” He could only say the first thing that came up in his mind, having lack the power to put up even a verbal fight.

But that seemed to work better than he thought it would. Once the last word fell from his lips, Aoba’s eyes widened, seemingly surprised. He might have gone too far. Any words more than these might chase Aoba away. While he struggled to come up with some sort of distraction to alleviate the suffocating air between them, Aoba let out a bitter smile.

“You’re right. I don’t know anything about you.”

It wasn’t his intention to hurt Aoba but the sorrow he saw on Aoba’s face had him immediately regretted even speaking at all.

Without another word, Aoba stood up, pushing the glass of water towards him before he made his way back to the counter, signalling the end of their conversation.

He didn’t know which felt worse - the unfamiliar yet distasteful physical sickness he was experiencing now; or the clench in his heart which told him that he’d probably just hurt the one and only person who genuinely cared about him in this world.

 

* * *

 

Aoba wasn’t sure what his motivation behind this action was. As he looked at the bowls of cooked meal on the kitchen table, thousands of questions ran through his mind while he contemplated over and over again, asking himself if this was really the right move. His grandmother had given him a suspicious look when he asked for a recipe for the sick; his brother had given him a suggestive smile which ultimately evolved into a pat on the shoulder. He’d confessed that it was for a sick customer but the answer sounded suspicious even in his own ears, let alone in the ears of his family.

Holding the food safely in a bag, he headed straight to his night shift right after dinner, attempting to hide the a-bit-too-big bag away from sight when he made his way into the shop and towards the staff room.

His plan was perfect, only if he wasn’t trying to hide from his childhood friend, one who was way too observant for his own good, especially when it came to Aoba.

“Aoba.”

He jumped when Koujaku called him from the door, almost spilling the food if he hadn’t been fast enough to grab onto it.

“What’re you doing?”

“Just a bit!”

Koujaku had walked into the room then, eyeing him suspiciously, then at the package of food.

“Don’t tell me...” he started. Aoba knew it was too late to hide anything from Koujaku now that he was caught red-handed. He heard Koujaku giving out a loud sigh - he knew that it was meant for him to hear, anyway - and before he could turn around to meet his eyes, Koujaku had slung an arm around his shoulder, almost choking him.

“I _told_ you not to stick your nose into other’s business, didn’t I?” Koujaku said.

“It’s no big deal,” Aoba retorted. “Besides, he’s--”

“Aoba, he’s our _customer._ He’s not a frie--”

“ _He is_ ,” Aoba interrupted in an almost delirious way, causing Koujaku to brighten his eyes, visibly surprised. “He’s my friend.”

It was a few moments of awkward staring competition before Koujaku started, slowly and heavily, “Aoba, you...”

It was too late for him to realize what he’d just mindlessly blurted out. Looking away, he struggled himself out of Koujaku’s grasp and returned back to organizing the package of food instead.

“He’s sick,” he said, attempting to save himself out of the complication he’d just created for himself.

“He knows how to take care of himself,” Koujaku debated, obviously still trying to make sense out of Aoba’s actions. “He’s an adult, not a child.”

“But he’s...” Aoba stopped, wondering if he should say any more than he should. In the end, he decided to drop the argument, leaving his unsaid words hanging in mid-air. Once he was done with the food, he met Koujaku upfront, giving him a determined stare as he did. “I know what I’m doing.”

“You don’t,” Koujaku was still unwilling to give up. Aoba was running out of points to defend himself by now. And he knew that Koujaku understood perfectly well how he tended to act on pure impulse at times. “You don’t know _anything_ about him, Aoba.”

He was right; Noiz was right. He’d known this himself. But there was no way he could turn a blind eye towards someone who was sick, especially knowing that he wasn’t taking care of himself at all. Sure, he didn’t know anything about Noiz. But that didn’t mean that he would _never_ know anything about him. It was just a matter of time before Noiz opened up to him and he was willing to wait, no matter how long it’d take. He was more than willing to give Noiz as many chances as he needed just so Noiz could find his own way in the process.

He didn’t know why he was so confident towards a man whom he, like both Noiz and Koujaku had mindfully reminded him of, knew _nothing_ about. But based on the short yet significant interaction he’d shared with Noiz in the past few weeks, alongside the longer one they’d gone through just a few days back, he choose to trust not only Noiz, but his own hunch as well.

That was why when Koujaku asked him once again if he was really fine with this, he returned his question with a certain, compulsive ‘yes’, leaving Koujaku with no choice but to trust him.

He knew Koujaku would always have his back if anything was to happen to him; and he didn’t want to disappoint Koujaku as well - it was a bet he had towards himself, as well as a promise he gave his childhood friend.

When Noiz came in at 11:00 p.m. sharp, Aoba was nowhere to be seen. He’d run back to the staff room the moment he saw Noiz walk through the door, pushing Koujaku - who was about to leave the place – to take his place. Koujaku walked up to Noiz as he was told, his attitude a tad different from how he was used to face his customers.

“Anything yo--” He stopped halfway and let out a sigh, urging Noiz to look up at him. Koujaku let his composure loose then, crossing his arms instead as he smiled at Noiz, completely putting aside the barista-customer relationship, one that he had never done to Noiz before. “You’re one lucky man, you know that? I don’t think you would need to make any order tonight.

Noiz returned his irregular attitude with confusion written all over his face. But Koujaku didn’t intend to answer his doubts either. Leaving him only with a hard pat on the shoulder, he turned his back towards him and left him alone, just in time for Aoba to reappear at the counter with the package of food in his hands.

He muttered a quick “thanks” to Koujaku, whom returned him with a wave of his hand before he made his way out of the shop, and strode straight towards where Noiz was sitting.

“I’m sorry, have you waited long?” he panted. Noiz took the stack of books off the table and placed it on a chair, staring curiously at the package Aoba had just placed right in front of him.

“It’s only 11:10 p.m.,” Noiz said. He gave Aoba’s cheeky smile a quick look before he pointed at the package. “What’s this?”

Aoba grinned. Purposely taking his time, he opened the cover, revealing the content of the package.

There was a variety of food in the container, some which Noiz had never seen before. Seeking for an answer, he asked again, “What’s this?”

“Special-made Seragaki dinner!” Aoba said excitedly. “It’s not on the menu so this is an once-in-a-lifetime opportunity for you!”

Noiz smirked then. He leaned in, sniffing on the food: scrambled eggs scattered at one corner of the container, the other corner stuffed with dried vegetables, the centre portion was filled with white rice with shredded meat all over it. It wasn’t the best sight he would expect from a homemade meal, but it definitely looked healthy.

“No coffee tonight!” Aoba continued. “But I’ve made you this instead.”

He pushed a glass of yellow-coloured drink towards Noiz, eliciting a frown from the patient.

“And this is?” he asked.

“This is ginger,” Noiz’s expression when he heard that was priceless. “It might taste weird but it’s good for you, trust me. This,” he pointed at the drink. “is a natural anti-nauseant. You look like you’ve been throwing up for a while now, I thought this might help soothe your nausea for a bit. Oh and...” Aoba trailed off, looking around table. “Ah, I forgot about one more thing. Hold on a sec.” And he throttled off without another word, leaving Noiz staring awkwardly at the food.

Truth be told, he didn’t expect himself to fall sick either. He was used to being drenched in rain water, and he never found himself falling sick ever. He liked to think that his physical health was strong enough to help him withstand any unpleasant habits he’d done to his own body. But apparently, it seemed like he had used up all of his lucky cards now. He almost collapsed when he got back the day he went out with Aoba. If it didn’t make matters worse, the small friction he had with Aoba had been occupying his entire mind that night, causing him to put aside his own physical displease. It was when he woke up the next morning that he finally noticed how serious his condition was: his entire body was _burning_ ; his vision faded in and out, his head heavy. He stayed in bed for the entire day, expecting himself to recover from the unexpected sickness so that he could make it on time for his appointment with Aoba. But the next time he woke up it was already the next morning. He’d missed his first 11:00 p.m.

He intended to head straight to the shop but then he was reminded of the fact that Aoba wouldn’t be in the shop after all, considering that it wasn’t his shift yet. Without having the mood to visit any other shops, he remained in the house, feeding merely on pizza and a few canned drinks and before he knew it, his fever returned, his lack of treatment had taken its toll on him.

Now that he was finally back in the shop, he felt a sense of weird nostalgia, as if this place was his real home. He looked at the food; the visual wasn’t too appealing, but the smell definitely was. He stared, just for a while, before Aoba made his way back again, now with a bowl of what seemed like soup in a hand.

“This is a chicken soup,” he explained the moment he sat down. “My grandmother made it. It should be able to warm you up.”

Noiz spent a few more minutes to take in the sight of food, still perplexed with the luxurious treatment before Aoba waved a hand in front of his eyes, “C’mon, eat while it’s still hot.”

The food tasted amazing; not because of the taste, but because of the intention behind this meal.

After this night, Noiz was almost sure that his initial purpose to visit this coffee shop had slowly but surely changed over time. He didn’t need to consider too much after all; the biggest reason of this change being this very person right in front of him.

 

* * *

 

He’d love to have Noiz stay at his own home while he recovered but Noiz had casually dismissed the intention, telling Aoba that locking himself at home would only encourage the spread of the sickness; he’d rather leave the house, walk a few miles, and settle in a place he knew would treat him better than he’d treat himself.

The last statement seemed to have effectively shut Aoba’s retorts down.

The next time Noiz stepped into the place, Aoba already had the food ready, without coffee and still with the usual set of healthy dinner. Noiz was still visibly weak, his eyes red, voice small, and every time Aoba saw him in this state, he couldn’t help but feel a squeeze in his heart, feeling as if he hadn’t done enough for him.

It was the fourth night that Noiz had come in with sickness, still coughing, tiredness still evident on his face. Aoba had moved from the counter to Noiz’s seat, becoming his full-time personal barista and making sure that he ate all the food he’d prepared for him. He’d left his seat just for a while to refill his glass of water just to come back to see Noiz falling asleep beside his laptop. Letting out a bitter smile, he hurried back to the staff room to grab his jacket. Noiz was still sleeping when Aoba approached him, snoring quietly with one hand supporting his head on the table. Aoba covered his body with the jacket, then shifting to sit closer to him as he scrutinized his face. Noiz looked surprisingly young when he was asleep, one profile that suited his age perfectly. He looked like an innocent child, a child who had yet to know a lot about the world and had yet to understand how things around him worked - the fact that he lacked the knowledge to take care of himself had proved it; fact that he became so attached to Aoba, who was perhaps the only person who had showed him such affection and concern was another strong supporting evidence. He was just like another child - one that yearned for love, for attention, and for someone to genuinely relate to him.

He took another quick look at Noiz’s sleeping face before he turned his attention to the laptop. It was a whole page of data, loaded with statistics and portions highlight. This was the first time that Aoba had managed to set his eyes on what Noiz was working on - being one of the things Aoba had never knew about Noiz - and it intrigued him greatly. Another serious reading later told Aoba enough that the spreadsheet Noiz was working on consisted of an accumulative data of the coffee shops they’d visited, with an addition of the ones that they didn’t make it on time before Aoba stopped him, and one - which was labelled as ‘high priority’ - of which was the coffee shop Aoba was working in. The menu, comments - “ _overly sweet_ ”, “ _weak in service_ ” - and number of staff as well as other trivial details were noted concisely in the document. The more Aoba read, the more curious he became, his initial interest replaced.

This looked like nothing but an analysis of different coffee shops. Why was Noiz researching on coffee shops? Did he work in one himself? What was his intention?

Hundreds of questions went through Aoba’s head - questions he didn’t have answers to. He never knew anything about Noiz. Noiz never told him anything; he always assumed that it wasn’t the right time yet. Even though he’d proclaimed their relationship as ‘friends’ to Koujaku, he knew that they were merely acquaintances, one that was perhaps one-sided.

This was one step to understand more about Noiz. The thought eventually urged Aoba to observe deeper, attempting to break the hidden code. He was about to switch to another page when Noiz stirred, slowly waking up. Their eyes met. Upon realizing what Aoba had been up to, Noiz sat up with speed so fast it startled Aoba.

“Y-you’re awake,” Aoba stuttered. He didn’t do anything wrong. But he still felt guilty for peeking at Noiz’s stuff without permission.

Noiz seemed to share the same line of thought as him as well. Without warning, he slammed his laptop screen shut, standing up and gathering all his items into his hands.

“Noiz?”

“I’m leaving,” he simply said, then walking out of the shop without another word.

He thought he’d settle the uneasiness between them. But it was far more difficult than he expected it to be. He never understood Noiz; he thought Noiz needed more time.

But it never occurred to him that perhaps Noiz was intentionally hiding things from him.

 

* * *

 

The next 11:00 p.m. came and passed. The food was starting to turn cold in the package. Aoba’s eyes lingered on the wall clock - ten minutes, then thirty - before he turned away and sighed, shifting his gaze to Noiz’s usual seat instead. He must have unintentionally angered him again. He wasn’t sure if it was simply of his inability to interact with others or it was just Noiz being too reclusive for his own good that had resulted in constant frictions between them like this. He’d rather have Noiz plating his dissatisfaction out at him than having him being all suspicious by himself.

He wished he’d at least asked for his phone number so, at the very least, he could send Noiz a message, like how he’d leave Noiz small notes on his table when they first knew each other. It didn’t even matter if Noiz was to ignore his messages; at least he could _do_ something rather than standing behind the counter, being unable to do anything but worrying about Noiz. It was a helpless feeling he never wanted to experience ever.

As if reading his thoughts, the phone rang out of sudden. He jumped, trying to bring his composure back as he hurried to pick up the phone.

“Good evening! This is Heibon Cafe at your service!”

“Can I speak to Mr.Seragaki Aoba?”

Huh? This was weird. He didn’t tell anyone that he was working here. His family wouldn’t call the shop to look for him, same goes to Koujaku and Mizuki.

“This is Aoba speaking. May I know who’s on the line?” There was only one way to find out.

“I’m calling from Midorijima Hospital. Do you happen to know a Mr.Noiz?”

He thought his heart would stop beating. Sure, he wanted to meet Noiz again, to have him tell him straight into his face about what he did wrong. He wanted Noiz to open up to him so that at least he could help him wherever he could.

He wanted to talk to Noiz again.

 

But he’d never expect their next interaction to be in a hospital.

 


	5. Exposure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All that he cared was the whys in his head; and all that he cared was one answer from Noiz.  
> But little did he know that whatever he intended to ask was whatever Noiz intended to throw at him too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains smut.  
> Thank you for reading and enjoy~ :)

He was never familiar with Midorjima Hospital, being a place he wanted to stay away as much as he could. He’d called Koujaku as soon as he put down the phone, grabbed his jacket and his bag in the next second and waited impatiently for Koujaku to turn up in the café. A quick “Thank you, I’ll replace this one day” later he found himself dashing out of the shop without a second look back and running his way down the pavement. He had absolutely no clue where the hospital was, despite being a resident in this town for the rest of his life. A frantic thirty minutes search later was when he finally regretted his own fidgetiness and picked up his mobile phone, calling the first person that came into his mind.

“Koujaku, do you know how to get to the hospital?” He was literally panting into the phone; he could hardly hear anything over the garish city buzz, his vision faltered, trying to capture everything all in once – sign boards, passer-by, cars – just so he could catch a hint to what he was looking for. He had zero direction on what he should focus on either.

“Aoba, calm down,” Koujaku’s sonorous voice rang in his ear, pulling his nerves back to composure. “Where are you now? Send me your location.”

There were so many things in his mind that he had no control over. ‘What ifs’ taking over his brain; his own speculations attempting to crush his sanity. He was almost in tears if he hadn’t taken a deep breath as he leaned against a street pole, grasping his breath and focused as hard as he could at what Koujaku was about to tell him.

“Take a cab,” was what Koujaku said instead. “You’re only going to waste more time in your current state.”

He was eternally grateful for having a close friend like Koujaku with him at a crucial time like this. He should’ve asked Koujaku in the first place but he was reminded of how he’d literally rushed his words over the phone with Koujaku and how he had ran his way out of the shop without giving time and chance for them to speak.

He was losing his composure. As soon as he called himself a cab, he instructed the driver in a rush and slumped against his seat, breathing heavily and closing his eyes. He didn’t like the sound of a ‘hospital’. He knew Noiz was sick, but he never knew his condition was so severe to the extent that he needed to be admitted into the hospital. Was it something to do with the meal he fed him for the past few days? Was he trying to be too smart again? Was he being too persistent? Did he not do enough?

Countless questions flooded his head like forceful waves, overwhelming him and ultimately had him clutching his head in frustration, no longer able to contain the contradictions within himself.

He was at the verge of tears; he didn’t know what was happening, and he _hated_ it. Why did the hospital call him instead of Noiz’s family?

He looked up then, a sudden realization hitting him hard in the head.

Did that mean that _he_ was the only person Noiz had acquainted in this town? That was why the hospital had called him above everyone else?

He didn’t know the answer and he was desperate to solve the mystery. A whole bunch of complicated emotions overpowering his chest as he jumped out of the cab the moment it stopped in front of the hospital, almost forgetting to pay, and dashed right into the lobby, looking around for the nearest counter.

“H-hi, I’m sorry!” He knew how loud his voice was, but his pride was the least of his concern now. Nothing else occupied him besides of _Noiz_. “I’m Seragaki Aoba. I was called in to attend to a Mr.Noiz.”

“Please hold on a minute,” the counter lady replied politely. Aoba watched anxiously as she typed on the keyboard, searching for the name Aoba mentioned to her. “Mr.Noiz is on the fourth floor, room 4-A. The lift is over there.”

The wait for the lift was too long. A quick sprint up the stairs later, he found himself standing in front of room 4-A, clutching his chest as he catch his breath. This was insane; he was running out of energy now and if it wasn’t for the virile determination in his head he was sure that he would’ve passed out now already. After making sure that he had himself under control, he raised a hand and knocked on the door, the sound of his own heartbeats vibrating loudly in his ears as he waited.

“Come in.”

It wasn’t a voice he was familiar with but he didn’t know what he was expecting anyway. Opening the door almost instantly, he walked into the room and was immediately faced by a doctor, alongside two nurses, who were standing by the bedside of someone who Aoba knew was Noiz.

“Are you Seragaki Aoba?” the doctor asked. Aoba nodded. He walked tardily into the room, hitching a breath when he saw Noiz laying on the hospital bed, asleep and breathing slowly.

“You were the only person we can reach out to when we found him,” the doctor continued, lifting a name card bearing Aoba’s name and the place he worked up for him to see. “This was in his pocket.”

“Wh-what happened to him?” Aoba asked, finally picking up the courage.

“He passed out on the street…” – _what?_ \- “…this afternoon and we had immediately sent him into the emergency ward when he was transported here.”

“What’s wrong with him?” He needed to know. He _needed_ to.

“He’s down with influenza,” the doctor said with a matter-of-fact tone. “But don’t worry, we have everything under control now. He just needs to stay here for a few days for more detailed observation.”

“How exactly does this happen?” Aoba continued asking. Noiz was just fine when he left the shop yesterday, albeit still appeared tired. He never showed any sign of serious sickness at all.

“It’s nothing life-threatening. It’s just pent up viruses.” By now, Aoba was already having some grave issues with the way this doctor was speaking in such a casual way as if it was nothing to be concerned about at all. But he decided to brush it off, only walking closer to Noiz so that he could have a better look at his face.

“When will he wake up?” he asked, attempting to soothe his internal fury down at the same time.

“Soon. We’ll leave you alone for now.”

He was almost grateful that they left before he could lash out at them.

As soon as the door was closed, he immediately let out a sigh of relief, allowing the room a momentary silence before he sank into the nearest chair and closed his eyes. His heart was still thumping furiously from beneath his chest, his breathing uneven and the migraine that had been disturbing him for a while now was another unnecessary addition to his frustration. He inhaled deeply, then letting out a huge breath before he snapped his eyes open again, now finally ready to face Noiz.

Noiz was still asleep when he fixed his gaze on him. Inching closer towards him, Aoba noticed that he was paler than usual; his lips white and skin dry, as if he hadn’t been drinking for days. He stretched a hand, aching to feel his very skin on his; the moment his hand came in touch with Noiz’s face, his heart skipped a beat, a sudden swarm of surrealism engulfing the whole of his insides. His skin was dry, but that wasn’t what made Aoba almost yelp out in surprise: it was the fact that this was the first time he was _touching_ Noiz, a person he deemed too far away for him to reach; a person to whom he deemed didn’t belong to his world. But yet, now he was, feeling the rough texture of Noiz’s skin on his hand, capturing the vague hint of warmth against his skin that told Aoba that his fever wasn’t completely dispersed yet. He wrapped the whole of his palm against Noiz’s face then, the corner of his lips lifted unconsciously as he scrutinized the sleeping profile of a nineteen-year-old kid, who now looked nothing like the adult front Noiz was so used to portray in front of him.

Noiz had told him before; _he_ knew it himself: that he knew _nothing_ about him besides his name. For all he knew, Noiz might even be putting up an intentional front just to deceive him. He might have been letting his guard down for the most time now or he might already landed himself in the trap of whatever Noiz was up to. He knew that Koujaku was right from the very beginning, that Noiz was suspicious and he was nothing like the usual customers they were so used to serve. But Aoba begged to differ: Noiz was just hard to read, nothing else.

It took him a while to notice the flutters of Noiz’s eyelashes but before he could pull his hand away, Noiz had opened his eyes, staring blankly ahead before his looked side-way at Aoba.

“H-hey, you’re awake,” Aoba said awkwardly, taking his hand off in the speed of lightning.

Noiz nodded. Closing his eyes again, he took a deep breath, then releasing it before he opened his eyes.

“What happened?” he asked with hoarse voice.

“You collapsed in the middle of the street. You’re in a hospital now."

Aoba was technically repeating what the doctor had just told him, answering the same questions he himself had thrown at the doctor earlier.

“How are you feeling?” he asked, noticing the tension of the atmosphere surrounding them.

“…heavy,” Noiz muttered. He seemed like he was trying to move but after a few awkward attempts, he gave up and let himself sink into the soft mattress of his bed. “…weak.”

“I guess so,” Aoba said. “You need to stay here for a few days for more check-ups.”

“And you?” Noiz’s question was one that Aoba never expected. He stared surprisingly at Noiz, then looking away, not knowing how to answer him. “Are you staying here with me?”

“I…” he started. “Do you have anyone I can contact? Your family? Friends?”

It was nerve wracking. Who was he to stay with Noiz, anyway? He was just someone from a café Noiz frequently visited.

“None,” Noiz said in a blunt yet emotionless way.

So his speculation was right after all: that was why he was the only person the hospital had contacted when Noiz was sent here. Because _he_ was the only person Noiz cared to leave a contact with.

“I… guess I’ll stay with you then. I can’t leave you alone.”

Noiz’s smile when he heard Aoba’s reply did things to him.

He knew _nothing_ about this man; but yet, he felt as if he was starting to know him now, that perhaps, his hunch had served him loyally this time.

 

* * *

 

It appeared that Noiz, like what the doctor had told him, wasn’t in too much of a critical situation after all. The doctor had told Aoba that it was due to sudden overwhelming of pent up viruses but he’d never cracked the mystery on _why_ they decided to attack him now. He ended up spending most of his day visiting Noiz, leaving only when he needed to go for his late night shift.

“You don’t need to come every day,” Noiz had said, which was immediately responded by a suggestive smirk from Aoba.

“You sure?” he had said. “But won’t you feel lonely? Should I bring a rabbit plush to keep you company?”

The glare Noiz had shot him then only made him laugh harder as he ruffled Noiz on the hair.

“Don’t worry, I’m resting properly,” he said, reading the intention behind Noiz’s suggestion before he could even voice it out. “I don’t feel secure if I don’t come over and look after you anyway.”

He didn’t explain to Noiz about this constant portrayal of affection and Noiz was waiting for him. No one had ever cared so much about him before; he’d noticed the way Aoba looked at him when he wasn’t looking into his eyes, the delicate action Aoba often showered him whenever they were in contact. He’d noticed how edgy Aoba could be when he showed just a tad of anguish, and how too-concerned he was whenever Noiz never told him enough about his body condition.

He was positive that Aoba was absolutely concerned and perhaps even _attracted_ to him but he had an answer he needed to answer for himself before he could make the next step.

And to get that answer, he needed to confront Aoba. Face-to-face.

So he decided to execute his plan the next day Aoba stepped into his room. Once he was settled down, he reached out, grasping Aoba on the hand and surprising him, causing him to almost drop the food container he was holding.

“What?” he asked, visibly shocked.

“Sit down,” Noiz said, as calmly as he could despite the ferocious heartbeats he had been sustaining within his chest for a while now.

“Hold on, let me put these things down,” Aoba quickly looked away. Noiz wasn’t sure if he had noticed what Noiz was about to do or if he was just trying to speculate things in his own way again but regardless, he allowed Aoba to take however much time he needed, until he was seated right by his bedside.

“Here,” Noiz patted the empty space on his bed. “Sit here.”

“Huh? There?”

Noiz nodded.

“Isn’t that a bit too small for both of us?” Aoba hastily said, face slightly red.

“It’s just nice for both of us,” Noiz retorted then patting the space again. “Come.”

He didn’t know what Noiz was up to but he obeyed anyway, settling himself on the bed once he took his shoes off.

“Erm… Isn’t this a bit… too close?” Aoba muttered, constantly swallowing down his throat to contain his nerves and avoiding eye contact with Noiz.

“You don’t like it?” Noiz asked. His voice was so close to his ear and he could physically feel the hot breath on his ear shell. “Your ear is red.”

He turned, so fast that Noiz had to retreat slightly before they could end up with a head bump.

“S-so, I assume you have something to tell me?” Aoba quickly diverted the conversation. Any more embarrassment than this was sure to throw his composure straight out of the window.

Noiz silent was totally unexpected. As Aoba waited, he lowered his gaze to the sheet, a thin frown in between his eyebrows as he considered, seemingly trying to find the best words to convey his thoughts.

“Been meaning to ask you for a while now,” he started then, still with the impassive tone Aoba was so used to hear. “Why are you doing so much for me? You don’t even know who I am.”

Aoba had expected this question to come, but definitely not like this – when he was sitting on the same bed as Noiz, acting in such a defenceless way. The question put a gape onto his face. He couldn’t find himself tearing his eyes away from Noiz while the other gave him a penetrating stare, a face of expectation.

“I, well…” he started, but stopped halfway when he noticed what he was about to say sounded too suspicious in his own head.

“At this point I’ll even believe it if you’re to tell me that you’re doing this simply because I look like a kid with social problems.”

That was exactly what he wanted to say. Jerking his head up, he returned Noiz’s gaze, just to see him smirking at him.

“Bingo?”

“How did you…”

“It’s not hard figuring you out,” Noiz interrupted, as if he had been waiting for this moment to come. “You put everything of yourself on the surface. I’m sure you’re the person who’d adopt a stray cat simply because it looks too lonely.”

“Are you implying yourself as a stray cat now?” Aoba teased, grasping the chance for a comeback.

Noiz’s eyes widened, his initial confident profile replaced by a confused one in mere seconds.

“Maybe you’re right,” Aoba said, intending to help him out of this complication. “Maybe I _really_ see you as such.”

Noiz seemed like he needed some time for himself to contemplate the situation but Aoba moved closer, practically leaning against him before he ruffled him on the hair.

“You’re just like a stray cat: lost, unsure, and uncaring. But I just like to think that perhaps you have multiple layers within yourself that you aren’t ready to disclose. Just like a stray cat, it’s hard to trust people when they have been mistreating you, throwing stones at you, beating you up. It’s completely understandable.”

He indulged in the way Noiz’s expression softened, stopped tampering with his hair before he grinned cheekily at him instead.

“So you’re right, and there’s nothing wrong with it.”

“You’re saying you’re willing to adopt me,” Noiz said slowly. The information in his head was still in a loading stage but yet, he yearned for Aoba’s answer. He needed to know.

“Ah, well, I…” Aoba said, scratching his head with a faint tint of pink on his cheeks. “You don’t expect me to turn a blind eye towards a stray cat when I see one, don’t you? Especially not when it’s an injured one,” he ended with a playful flick against Noiz’s forehead.

Noiz _chuckled_ then, freezing every one of Aoba’s actions. This was dangerous; he was landing himself with not only a stray cat, but a highly endearing and possibly attached one as well.

As if proving his thoughts right, Noiz sneaked a hand towards his waist and pulled him closer before he hugged him with both of his hands.

“You’re adopting me then?” he said, voice husky and filled with thick suggestiveness, one that Aoba had never heard before.

Aoba lowered his gaze towards Noiz’s hands, wrapped around his abdomen, his mind running on an intense high speed. What does Noiz meant by ‘adopting’, anyway? He had been attending to him every time he could – in the café, out for a date, even now in the hospital – that he didn’t know what else he could do for him. Searching for an answer, he shot the younger man a side-way gaze, looking away almost immediately when he found Noiz giving a stare way too overpowering for him to sustain.

“Perhaps I should help you out,” Noiz whispered into his ear, giving the shell a lick before he started again. “Do you want to go out with me?”

“Wh-what are you talking about? We did that before.” He didn’t even know what he was talking about anymore.

“You know what I’m talking about,” Noiz smirked. “Or do you want me to make it clearer? Like, do you want to be my—“

“Okay, okay!” Aoba struggled and turned around, pressing his hands against Noiz’s mouth to stop him from continuing. “I’ll adopt you!”

He could feel Noiz smiling from where he was pressing his hands against. Removing it shyly, he found himself staring directly into the other’s eyes: it was no longer impassive; at least this time, Aoba could make out the thick emotions behind them, one that spelled strongly of want. His emotions were tangled up in a complicated bundle. He wasn’t sure if this was the best decision for both him and Noiz; but he knew that he needed to keep an eye on Noiz, in a level a lot more necessary than a customer-barista relationship.

It took one more day for Noiz to discharge from the hospital but that one day had been filled by nothing but tension and more awkwardness between them. The confession sounded like a dream, haunting Aoba’s mind and keeping him awake even after well past his last night shift and interfering his thought of line when he was supposed to be asleep. He hadn’t told Koujaku about this shift of relationship either, already expecting his exaggerated expression the moment Aoba spilled the first word. He didn’t think he could handle the question-throwing before he could answer them for himself first. It was probably best for him to set it aside for Koujaku and Mizuki, perhaps even his family for now until he organized the puzzle pieces in his own thought.

On the day of Noiz discharge, Aoba took a day off from his shift, turning up way too early than his usual time just to see Noiz already tidying up his stuff and preparing to leave.

“Didn’t expect you to reach here so early,” Noiz said, zipping his bag up before he slung it over his shoulder.

“Do you intend to leave without me?” Aoba reprimanded.

“I thought of waiting for you in the lobby so you don’t need to climb four flights of stairs up.”

Well, he got it this time. Giving him a smile, Aoba walked towards him, scanning him from head to toe before he crossed his arms with a satisfied grin.

“Seems like you’re back to the healthy brat now.”

“The fever is not completely gone yet but it should be after today,” Noiz said in a matter-of-fact tone before he mirrored Aoba’s grin. “But I’m definitely feeling much better now.”

“That’s good to hear,” Aoba said. “C’mon, let’s go.”

They walked out of the room, down the stairs, then out of the building when Aoba suddenly halted.

“Hm? What’s wrong,” Noiz asked. The sun was a bit too bright for his preference. Squinting through the brightness, he caught Aoba looking at him.

“Where should we go now?” Aoba asked, evoking a laugh out of Noiz.

“I thought you’re bringing me somewhere.”

“Well, I haven’t thought about it yet. I just wanted to bring you out of that place. That’s _somewhere_ , right?”

“Hardly,” Noiz replied, completely honest. “If you don’t have any other plans, let’s go back to my house then.”

“O-oh…”

He had no opinions, but this was one thing that he hadn’t expected. They were heading to Noiz’s _house_ – a place where Aoba always deemed like a secret basement. It was a lie if he was to tell himself that he never thought about how Noiz’s place would look like, similarly to how he thought Noiz’s lifestyle would be. He imagined the place to be simple, few pizza boxes stacking up at one corner, a laptop in the centre of the room, perhaps a few piles of books in another corner. But when Noiz opened the door to his apartment, he gaped at the doorway, the initial mental image he’d built for himself wiped completely clean

“Come in,” Noiz said, leaving his shoes outside the door and urging Aoba to do the same.

The place was clean, organized, almost luxurious-looking if not because of the lack of lighting. But above all, it reverberated strongly of Noiz and Aoba could only gaze impressively around. There wasn’t any hint of a pizza box either, no messily piled up books; instead, the books were all stacked nicely on a bookshelf, the couch clean, the floor well-polished: everything was in perfect order.

After settling himself on the couch, Aoba continued to look around while Noiz walked into the corridor and into a room which Aoba suspected to be his study room – or bedroom – before he came back with two glasses of water.

“I don’t have anything fancy to drink here. Unless you want more coffee,” Noiz commented as he sank himself beside Aoba, one glass of water in his hand.

“Water is fine,” Aoba said clumsily. Picking the glass up, he drowned half of the water down his throat, attempting to clear his thoughts out before he heard Noiz giving out a playful smirk beside him.

“You seem nervous,” he said.

“Ah.” A weird sound escaped his lips before he could stop it. Inelegantly putting the glass on the desk, he leaned against the couch, taking deep breaths at the same time.

“Don’t be.” He could feel Noiz leaning alongside him, probably had his eyes on him the entire time.

“I’m sorry,” he said out of reflex. “I don’t know why I’m like this but you’re right,” he smiled before he gave Noiz a tender look. “I shouldn’t be too nervous. It’s you after all.”

He didn’t know what the trigger from his words was but before he knew it, Noiz had inched impossibly close towards him, gently gripping him on the chin and tilting it into a position where his lips could land perfectly on his. Aoba held his breath, eyes wide, completely drown in shock. He felt a lick, soft and wet against his bottom lip before he felt the kiss deepen, urging him to hold onto Noiz before he could tumble and fall. But that seemed to be Noiz’s intention though because the moment Aoba’s hands found their way to Noiz’s back, Noiz immediately applied his weight on him, leaving him with no choice but to fall back, head hitting the leather material of the couch.

“Sorry, does it hurt?” It felt like an eternity when Noiz finally took his lips off Aoba. With the position they were in now, he could see nothing but Noiz’s intense gaze, penetrating straight into his as he gulped, managed a weak smile then shook his head.

“Fine.”

Noiz smirked then. Leaning in to kiss him on the forehead, he planted more soft pecks on Aoba’s cheek, the bridge of his nose, his lips again and ultimately, when he was about to advance downwards, heading towards his neck, Aoba pushed his chest, signalling him to stop.

“E-erm, this might sound awkward but,” he paused for a while, completely perplexed by the eager stare Noiz was giving him now. “A-are we going to… you know?”

Noiz let out a smirk, one that sounded way too suggestive for Aoba to break the code. “I don’t know. How about you let me know what’s in your mind?”

He didn’t remember this part of Noiz; he’d never expected him to act so upfront like this. It caught him off guard, left him in a state of confusion and all he could do was looking at Noiz with an expression that vibrated strongly of a returned question.

“You’re still sick,” Aoba chuckled as he played with the tips of Noiz’s hair.

“You’re afraid I’ll pass it to you?”

“Not really. I’m just worried about you.”

Another capture of lips told Aoba that Noiz’s main trigger would probably be whenever Aoba showed him a sign of concern. Trigger might not be the best description; _weakness_ , perhaps. Completely surrendering to such an endearing seduction, he abandoned all unnecessary thoughts, wrapping his arms around Noiz’s torso and pulling him closer, deeper into the kiss.

The stray cat was in heat. He was practically ravaging every part of Aoba he could reach, their tongues intertwined, teeth clanking against each other, lips glued all the time. Their lungs were shouting for a refill of air but two seconds was all they needed before they found their mouths against each other again, as if attempting to swallow the other whole. When they finally separated their lips with a fine line of saliva connecting both of their mouths, Aoba looked up at Noiz, eyes glassy and hot breath leaking from his lips, his entire mind hazed with heated want.

“It’s a bit hot, don’t you think?” Noiz asked between pants. “Want to switch a place?”

“W-wait, are we really…”

“Do you think this can wait?” Noiz had grabbed onto his crotch before he could finish his question, evidently impatient, and the small moan that’d escaped Aoba’s mouth when he did just that served as the best answer to his question.

He couldn’t wait, like Noiz had once again mindfully reminded him of. Of course he couldn’t wait to witness how much more expressive this man could be.

As they sloppily made their way to the bedroom with Noiz as the lead, various questions swarmed Aoba’s thoughts: Why did Noiz collapse out of a sudden? Why did he suddenly decide to trust Aoba?

Perhaps Aoba’s persistence had finally made it through Noiz’s tough shield. And perhaps that was why he’d finally let his guard down.

And perhaps that was why…

“Noiz,” he stopped him right before Noiz could pull his pants off. Sitting up, he fixed his gaze seriously on Noiz’s, telling him that this was serious, that he needed an answer before they could continue. “Are you doing this just so you could repay me?”

Noiz quirked a curious eyebrow. He’d never expected this but Aoba being overly concerned wasn’t new news anyway. So he let out a quiet sigh, disposing their clothes on a chair near the bed before he crawled towards Aoba, who was still gazing alertly at him.

“What makes you think so?” was the question Noiz threw back at him instead. Aoba looked away. His train of thought was running too fast for him to control; his attempt to organize it was becoming futile. Noiz seemed to have noticed that as well as he lifted Aoba’s chin gently, positioning it so that they were staring into each other’s eyes. “Do you not trust me?”

“That’s not it,” Aoba retorted almost immediately. Sure, he hadn’t make out what was confusing him yet but he was _sure_ that what he held towards Noiz was nothing that suggested mistrust. “You’ve always been hard to read. I want to understand more of you.”

“Like my motive? Like what I can benefit from doing this to you?” Noiz’s voice had turned cold, sending shivers down Aoba’s spine but he scowled, shaking his head again.

“No. I want to know what you’re thinking. I want to know more about _you_ ,” Aoba retorted. The hand he’d placed on Noiz’s face then seemed to have acted as a perfect reassurance as the corner of Noiz’s lips lifted, suggesting that he’d dropped the suspicions he held towards Aoba.

“I know how suspicious myself is,” he started, positioning him comfortably in between Aoba’s legs before he pulled him over by the waist. “A customer that comes in every day, at the same time, ordering inconsistent coffee types from the menu. It’s natural for anyone to think that I’m suspicious.”

“Are you going to tell me what’s up with that?” Aoba jumped straight into the pit. Every one of his nerves was burning for answers – answers he’d desperately sought for ever since he found himself overly attracted to this man. Instead of giving him exactly what he wanted, Noiz smiled, looked away, gazed at the sky outside the opened window before he returned his attention to Aoba.

“Not yet but I can tell you that it’s not very pleasant.”

“Don’t you think it’s unfair?” Aoba retorted. He didn’t know what was making him say this but not knowing a lot of things about Noiz was pushing him towards his own limit as well. If he was to be completely affiliated to this person, then he must have every rights to know more about him before he could move forward. “We’re going into an intimate relationship now and I know _nothing_ about you. What if you’re a… a spy? Or a murderer? Or…” He stopped his speech, along with his thoughts, no longer have the courage to look Noiz in the eyes.

He knew how Noiz looked like now – the same impassive, unconcerned profile that told him that he probably wouldn’t even mind if Aoba was to suspect him. But when Noiz kissed him on the face, he turned to meet his gaze, surprised to see a hint of uncertainty in those constant confident eyes.

“My initial intention isn’t the most pleasant, I can admit that,” Noiz explained. “But now that I’m involved with you, I’m reconsidering my decision.”

“Are you trying to say that… _I’ve_ changed a decision that’s possibly… life-changing?” He was trying to connect the puzzle pieces in his head. But Noiz’s nod pushed him greatly – the one big picture was now connected.

That was all he needed. He didn’t need to know what Noiz initially wanted to do; all he ever wanted was to make sure that his own existence was enough to lead Noiz towards the right path.

“Do you trust me?” Noiz only had one question and Aoba didn’t need the wavers in his eyes to know how important his answer was to him.

“Of course I trust you,” he said, determined. “I’ve trusted you ever since the first day you stepped into the café.”

“That’s very naïve of you,” Noiz commented.

“But you trusted me too, no?” Aoba retorted. “That’s why you let your guard down. You released the burdens within you, and they overwhelmed you all in one shot during the time when you’re most fragile. You collapsed because of that. And simply because you’ve found yourself a place that you could rely on, you think that you can afford to fall sick now because you _know_ that someone would be here to take care of—ah.”

Before he knew it, he’d spoken too much, his genuine thoughts overflowed out of his mouth like tap water. Noiz was smiling genuinely at him all the time he was speaking.

“Seems like you know me more than I know myself. And I thought I was hard to read.”

“You were,” Aoba muttered, no longer sounding too prideful. “But now,” he held both his hands up, cupping Noiz on the face and looking straight into his eyes. “No more.”

Noiz was no longer patient when he took Aoba’s pants off with one swift movement, struggling out of his own at the same time and immediately leaning forward to savour Aoba’s lips. They exchanged moans, their breathing mingled and by the time they were both running out of breath, they were already completely aroused, want written all over their faces and body drenched with sweat.

“Maybe you’re right,” Noiz said, holding Aoba close to him as he planted sporadic kisses all over his neck before he continued, “I let my frustration loose, putting my guard down and allowing the viruses to attack me when I was weak. But,” he paused, licking his lips in fervour as he drank in the sight of Aoba’s exposed body. “there are different types of frustration too. Just like there are different types of coffee, you wouldn’t know which would be your favourite until you found one you like. And then, you’ll be addicted to it and you’ll no longer find yourself interested in any other coffee but that coffee of your preference.”

“Have you…” Aoba breathed, hitching a breath when he felt Noiz’s hardened dick pressing against his. “…found your favourite coffee?”

“I don’t have a favourite coffee, you know that,” Noiz smirked. He sneaked his hand downwards, finding what he intended to find and experimentally pumping on Aoba’s length. “But I do have a favourite barista. And I’m addicted to every drink he’s to make for me, coffee or not.”

He wanted to cover his face but Noiz was faster. Holding both of Aoba’s hands on his side, he leaned in, kissing him again, taking away his breath until he was completely relaxed and returning his passion. When their eyes met again, it was one of exchanged lust and impatience and one intended spread of legs was all Aoba needed to do for Noiz to acknowledge the signal. He rushed away, opened the drawer of his bedside table and scrambled blindly, unwilling to tear his eyes away from Aoba while he looked for what he wanted.

“Experience?” he asked once he located the small bottle of lube, hurriedly spreading it on his fingers while he waited for Aoba’s answer.

“None, not with a guy,” Aoba answered truthfully, one that was responded by Noiz’s smirk.

“I’ll need to be extra careful with you then.” That was all he said before Aoba felt his finger, cold and wet, pressing against his exposed hole.

”How about you?” He literally had to force the words out of his throat before he found Noiz shifting his eyes from his hole to his face.

“None. Does it hurt?”

“A bit,” Aoba managed a weak smile. The next moment, he found his dick wrapped in Noiz’s warm grasp, leisurely pumped. He could only close his eyes and swallow the sudden rush of pleasure down his throat when Noiz crouched and took a mouthful of his nipple in, tongue twirling around the sensitive bud and one hand busying itself with the loosening of Aoba’s hole. He was practically using every free limb he had – his hands, his tongue – and it made Aoba feel bad for not doing anything for him. With that thought in mind, he breathed deeply, trying to relax himself and spreading himself as wide as he could so that he could at least do something to ease Noiz’s job.

He shrieked when he felt a second finger inside him, thrusting in and out in an unhurried way. He breathed again, this time, deeper, before he assisted the preparation by thrusting himself on Noiz’s fingers, as if encouraging Noiz to dig deeper into him.

“Careful,” Noiz mumbled, one hand caressing Aoba on the face as he wiped a tear off the corner of his eye. “Don’t hurt yourself.”

“I… I think I’m ready,” Aoba responded instead, breathless and mind blank.

“You sure?”

When Aoba nodded, Noiz pulled his fingers out, took his hand off Aoba’s face and positioned his own erection against Aoba’s hole. One final look at Aoba later, he pushed himself into him, slowly and cautiously and stopping when the head made past his rings of muscle.

“Okay?” he asked. His breath was heavy, his hand trembled ever so slightly on Aoba’s thigh. Another nod from Aoba and he pushed in again, a bit rougher than before but yet still carefully measuring his motion and only came to a stop when he hit his hilt, the whole of his length now perfectly buried inside of Aoba.

“Are you okay?” he asked again. It took Aoba a while to respond to him, though. He could clearly feel the throbbing erection in him, thick and _hot_ and he couldn’t help but breathe open-mouthed, the lack of air and the pressure he felt all over him making it extremely hard to breathe for him. Noticing his struggle, Noiz leaned in, cupping his face with both his hands and caressing his cheekbones with his thumbs.

“F-fine…” Aoba said, finally getting used to the intense pressure and heat within him. “You can move…”

But that wasn’t what Noiz was planning to do. Instead, he slipped his hands under Aoba’s arms, grasping him on the shoulders and lifting him up in such a swift way Aoba hadn’t gotten the chance to respond before he found himself already clinging on Noiz like his whole life depended on it. One hard thrust from Noiz brought him into the reality that this position had undoubtedly allowing deeper access for Noiz, drawing audible moans out of him as he sobbed, embarrassed into Noiz’s shoulder. He was practically _riding_ Noiz now and there was nothing he could do with the position he was in besides hugging tight onto Noiz and allowing him to do whatever he wanted to do to him.

Noiz had enveloped Aoba into a full-body hug then, lifting him up and carrying him away from the bed, his own body weight had Aoba sinking deeper onto Noiz’s dick as he immediately hugged Noiz’s torso with his legs, his hands no longer sufficient to support himself. All he could feel was the heat within him that had eventually sipped past his skin and coated a layer of warmth all over him. It was when his back hit a solid surface that he snapped his eyes open, Noiz’s feverish lime-green orbs being the first thing he saw once he regained his sight.

“I didn’t know you’re into this kind of play,” he teased. His back was pressed against the wall of the bedroom, chest pressed against Noiz’s, the slickness of their skin that was their sweat making their motion easier than ever.

“It’s easier to move,” Noiz replied, not entirely paying attention to what he’d just said.

Aoba chuckled. “What are you talking about? I can’t even mo—mph!” Noiz had thrust up hard then, shutting Aoba off with his mouth as he sucked roughly on Aoba’s tongue. His motion was no longer patient and slow but quick and rough and whatever thoughts Aoba had left his mind was wiped off when Noiz hit directly on his prostate, pushing him into the depth of pleasure. There was nothing in his mind besides the ever-repeating “ _more, more, more_ ” and he could feel himself at the edge, he _wanted_ to be at the edge, he wanted to be so lost in this addicting lust that there was no longer the need to remember who he was, where he was, and why he was there as long as he had Noiz.

Noiz, the once distant brat; Noiz, who was once ignorant towards him.

And Noiz, who was now so passionately indulged in him that he could almost feel his want spreading from his core and right into his own body.

Noiz was filled with so much emotions, so much need, and so much _affection_ towards Aoba now that it made Aoba feel as if the Noiz he’d once knew was a mere illusion. When Noiz pressed his lips against Aoba’s again, he bit hard on his bottom lip, drawing blood and ultimately having Noiz to pull himself off him before he could tear his flesh apart.

“It hurts,” Noiz smirked, the blood dripping from his lip to his chin. It was a sight so alluring that Aoba couldn’t help but trailing his tongue along the blood stain, licking it clean.

“So you can feel after all,” he returned Noiz’s smirk.

“Thanks to you.”

He knew Noiz meant more than what he said. It wasn’t only about the pain, wasn’t only about the intense pleasure he was feeling within him now; it was also about the emotions Aoba had made Noiz feel in such a feverish way that the actions they were indulged in now was nowhere near to what they had been feeling towards each other all along.

He launched himself towards Noiz, pushing his tongue into Noiz’s mouth once again and feeling Noiz returning his fervour with his own ferocious thrusts; the rough pushes almost forcing the conscious out of Aoba, his own moans pouring into the depth of Noiz’s throat as he sank his nails into Noiz’s back, scratching his skin, drawing blood. When he ultimately felt the orgasm hitting his tip, he pulled himself out of Noiz’s mouth, completely allowing himself to fall apart in Noiz’s arms.

“Noiz, I… close.” His words scattered into mid-air, his moans echoed around the space; he could hear nothing but the sound of skin slapping against skin and Noiz’s pants in his ear.

“Hold on, Aoba,” Noiz breathed hotly. “Wait for me.”

He wanted to; but it was a task too impossible for him when he had been suppressing the urge to release ever since he’d taken Noiz into him. _Faster, faster_ was all that in his mind until he ultimately surrendered to his own passion and bit hard on Noiz’s shoulder, tasted rust the same time when he felt his own cum splattering on both of their chests. The heated gush pouring into him almost made him pass out if Noiz hadn’t been staring so intensely at him, a gaze that was filled with so much fragility and so much intensity that he simply _couldn’t_ take his eyes off them.

They stayed for a while; Noiz buried his head against the crook of Aoba’s head as he waited for the wave of tremor to subside. Aoba’s vision flickered, his eyes blurred. Noiz’s skin against him was warm, so as the throbs he felt inside him when he felt the seeds filled him to the hilt. When Noiz finally pulled himself out of him, he supported Aoba to stand against the wall before both of them slipped and sat leaning against it, still breathing heavily.

“That was intense,” Aoba said, wiping the sweat off his face with the back of his hand. “I can’t remember when the last time I felt like this was.”

 “This is definitely not the last time,” Noiz muttered tiredly.

Aoba laughed, slinging a hand around Noiz’s neck and ruffling him on his hair.

“Yeah, definitely not.”

They had yet to know what would happen to them tomorrow; but they knew that the 11:00 p.m. was no longer the only time they’d see each other. Their time was unlimited now, so as their chances to know more about each other.

 

 


	6. Goodbye, Barista

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He never knew a lot of things about Noiz. But when they truth ultimately fell upon him, he thought it'd be better for him to never know what was happening after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thus ends this quick story for this AU.   
> Thank you very much for reading once again! I hope you enjoyed this finale :D

The shift of relationship was a development he had never foreseen, especially not when he’d decided to sign up for this job earlier this year. By the end of a year, he’d found himself growing into a specialised barista of his own. He no longer worked the late night shift either, having exchanged places with Koujaku ever since he passed the half-year mark. Working on a day shift presented a different class of experience to him: the types of customer he observed were of a more far-reaching range, piquing his interest prominently as he spent more time trying to construe how different customer worked.

But no matter how much he was to interpret, there was no way he would be able to accurately categorize that _one_ customer he’d never fail to get, on the same time, at the same spot, whom had also shifted his late night visits to day visits just to adapt to Aoba’s working shift.

“Those students,” Noiz started as soon as Aoba sat opposite of him, on their usual seat in the buzzling café. “They are a bunch of students who often lack motivation. You can see it on their faces. All they ever wanted is to finish up whatever that’s left on their plates and be done with it.”

“Uh huh,” Aoba nodded, eyes fixed on the three students, in which two of them were grumbling into their worksheets while the other had her attention entirely focused on the piece of paper she was writing on.

“Bitter won’t work. Sweet drinks would. Sweet beverages could boost one’s stamina. What do you suggest?” Noiz threw the question back at Aoba, causing Aoba to turn around to look at him instead, just to see his boyfriend giving him an evocative stare from behind his black-rimmed glasses.

“Well, I have the same thought. So I usually serve either Galao or Mocha for them.”

“Both are good choices,” Noiz approved with a smile, then leaning back against his chair with his arms crossed. “No need to serve big portion, they won’t remember to drink them anyway.”

It wasn’t a detail that Aoba had bagged but as he returned his surveillance to the group of students, he soon noticed that Noiz’s speculation was right after all – the students were so engrossed with whatever they were doing that their drinks were left abandoned at one side, barely touched an hour since they’d stepped into the shop.

“How about those?” Noiz diverted his attention to another group of customers, which turned out to be a pair of new couple. The girl had her head lowered, stirring her cup of coffee unconsciously while the man sitting opposite her had his eyes fixed on her, his face portraying a grim look; he was noticeably trying to say something but _something_ was stopping him to do exactly just that.

“Hmmm,” Aoba considered. It wasn’t something he was unexperienced with; this wasn’t the first time he had to contemplate on what to serve for couples anyway. But now that Noiz had posed him a question that sounded way too tricky to be just another question, he found himself sinking into his own thoughts, attempting to figure the best answer out for himself in an effort to uphold his hard-earned barista credential.

“Well, they always seem like they need emotional support though, so I usually go with sweet stuff too, like…” He tilted his head, eyes darting to scan through the menu before he replied, “Latte, or Macchiato.”

What he received in response was a dainty smirk from Noiz, who looked down for a few moments before he flicked his eyes up to stare impishly at Aoba, an expression that suggested nothing but a tease.

“That’s straightforward thinking,” Noiz commented. “So how many times have you seen them properly opening themselves up after your cup of coffee?”

“Eh?” Now _this_ was new. He’d never taken note on something so trivial like this. Every so often, he thought that his job was done the moment he served the drinks, that he should leave his customers alone or risk annoying them. But Noiz seemed to have taken the matter a step further, and it didn’t take too long for him to realize that Noiz was a far more result-oriented person than himself.

“If you haven’t been observing, you can do it now,” Noiz advised, reading his mind.

Doing as what he was told, Aoba turned around to peek on the couple. They were both still quiet, unsure of what to say, their drinks left aside after the one sip they’d taken since Aoba had placed them on their table.

“It’s been like this for the past half an hour,” Noiz noted. “The coffees are turning cold.”

He was right. But was this technically Aoba’s fault? Seeking for an answer, he turned to face Noiz again.

“So what’s your opinion then?” he asked, in which Noiz responded by leaning a tad forward and supporting his chin with his knuckles.

“I would suggest something bitter. Perhaps original Cappuccino or Espresso.”

“What? Won’t that ruin the mood?”

“That’s exactly what they need.”

He couldn’t quite understand what Noiz meant by that. Reading the confusion on his face, Noiz leaned forward, giving him a rascally smirk before he said,

“How about you try it out? Make it on the house?”

“Hmm.” A few seconds of deliberation later, Aoba stood up, and strolled towards the counter, where he mixed two cups of Espresso from one of the vacant coffee machines. Giving Noiz a nod from afar, he then walked towards the table where the couple sat, with the tray of new drinks in his hand.

“Hi there! We would like to treat you with two cups of Espresso. It’s on the house! Please enjoy.”

His voice was chirpy, loud enough for Noiz to hear even from a distance. The couple merely gave him a flabbergasted look before the man smiled and thanked him. As soon as he was done, Aoba hurriedly retreated to where Noiz was sitting, joining him to observe the couple’s reaction.

At first, they were pretty hesitant and obviously introverted with the sudden interruption of mood. But then the man coughed an unnatural gesture and pushed the cup slightly towards the woman, who smiled shyly and nodded at him. Both Noiz and Aoba held their breaths when they witnessed them taking the cups up, shifted them nearer to their lips, and took the first sip.

“Wow, this is bitter!” the man squealed, almost spilling his drink before he caught sight of his partner, who was coughing and giggling, a response that told the man that she’d agreed with him. Sensing a chance, he quickly pulled a white handkerchief out of his pocket, leaning forward to wipe the stain off the woman’s lips, their eyes fixed wholly on each other the entire time.

“See?” Noiz let out a content smile, sitting back and staring at Aoba with great interest.

“Wow, that really works. You’re amazing!” Aoba exclaimed.

“It’s nothing. Just continuous observation.”

By now, Aoba no longer needed further conviction to tell him that Noiz was perfectly capable and perhaps way more of an expert than he himself was. But it still perplexed him as to why he was so well versed with all of these details despite not being a barista himself. As he allowed the thoughts to run across his mind, he fixed a curious stare at Noiz, until the other looked up from his cup of Breve that he looked away.

“You seem like you have something to ask me,” Noiz said, picking the serviette up to wipe his lips.

“Yeah,” Aoba admitted. “You never tell me what you’re up to after this long.”

“What do you mean?”

“You know, like… what you do as a living or if you’re still studying, and such.”

Noiz fell silent for a moment before he arched a smirk at Aoba, his eyes glinting with undeniable gleam from behind the glasses. “You want to know?”

“Of course,” Aoba said without a second thought. “I mean, since we’re in this.. erm, relationship. Of course I’d want to know more about you.”

Noiz seemed to have taken his genuine suggestion into serious contemplation as he closed his eyes, considered for a few more seconds, before he addressed Aoba again.

“I can tell you, but it’s probably not the answer you’re looking for.”

“I’m not looking for any answers but the truth,” Aoba responded resolutely. “By now, I don’t think I’d be surprised even if you’re to tell me something completely out of the world.”

He wasn’t sure how much he could take Aoba’s words to heart but Aoba was, no doubt, honest about what he felt towards Noiz and at the very least, he wanted to respect that feelings – one that no one but Aoba had given to him.

 

* * *

 

The next time they met was two days later. Aoba had taken a day off after the last he’d taken half a year back. After a quick dinner in a restaurant downtown, he followed Noiz back, a half-hearted agreement after a few silent harass from Noiz. It wasn’t uncommon for him to drop by either. Whenever he called home to notify his family that he wouldn’t be coming back on that day, he’d be bucketed down with numerous questions that had him ultimately breaking the truth about him seeing someone. It didn’t take too long for him to spill the beans at both Mizuki and Koujaku either, his intimacy with Noiz – who would not miss the chance to kiss Aoba goodbye whenever they parted – way too apparent for them to miss, let alone catching the hint. Koujaku had given him a good hour of stern lecture, accompanied by a Mizuki who could do nothing but smile bitterly at the pair. But as soon as Aoba spoke his thoughts out about how he genuinely felt about Noiz, Mizuki finally stepped into the picture, reassuring Koujaku that Aoba knew what he was doing and that they would, as usual, have his back if anything was to happen.

So, when Aoba told Koujaku that he would be taking a day off for that weekend, Koujaku shot him an apprehensive glare, and finally nodded at him after a gaudy sigh. He knew that Koujaku was concerned about him, that was why he would never fail to update Koujaku about his and Noiz progress, even though Koujaku had pestered that he won’t need to do that just for his sake.

Koujaku was a natural worrywart – a fact that both Aoba and Mizuki knew perfectly well, being his childhood friends. Hence, Aoba was eternally grateful for Mizuki to be around whenever Koujaku portrayed a sense of intimidation towards their relationship.

Aoba sat on the couch as soon as he entered the space he was now more than familiar with. While Noiz walked into his room to retrieve something, he helped himself by walking towards the kitchen, where he found a packet of instant coffee in one of the shelves.

When he came back with two cups of coffee, Noiz was already sitting on the couch, a spreadsheet and a few document files spread wide on the coffee table.

“Ah, these…”

“You can put them there,” Noiz said as he pointed on the small table by the couch with his chin, without looking at Aoba.

Aoba conformed without another question. As soon as he settled the cups down, he joined Noiz to pore over the papers on the table, multiple questions popping up in his head when he caught sight of a few diagrams and abundant sketches that looked oddly like the interior designs of a café.

“What are those?” Aoba asked out of reflex, still trying to make sense of the diagrams he was staring at.

“Work,” Noiz replied simply, hands still busy assembling the papers on the table. It took a few more moments for Noiz to finally settle himself back on the couch, joining Aoba, who had been wearing a curious profile for the entire time.

“Let me go through the basics,” Noiz started, eyes wandering around the table and brightening when he found what he was looking for. “This is the basic plan of what I wanted to do.”

“’ _Café launch_ ’…” Aoba read out loud before he diverted his attention to Noiz once again. “You’re planning to join a café?”

“I’m planning to _open_ a café,” Noiz corrected.

“O-oh.. _oh_.” He had to think through Noiz’s statement for a few times before he finally gotten what Noiz really meant. “Here?”

“Yeah, across the street of your café.”

“What?” This was certainly out of his expectation. He’d never heard Noiz talk about this before. This was downright new information for Aoba and he couldn’t help but ogle at his boyfriend, where a difficult frown had just appeared in between his eyebrows.

“Your café is situated in a very strategic location but I can’t use it because of contract complications. Here, however,” he paused, pointing at a corner on the map where Aoba recognized was where his own café positioned. “is available and I intend to use it. I’ve brought the land. All I need to do now is to start the construction.”

The space was indeed uninhabited. In fact, it had been vacant since a few months before Aoba started working in Heibon Café thanks to the ridiculously high rate the previous landowner had nailed onto the land. How did Noiz manage to buy it? Was Noiz a well-off person after all?

There were many questions he intended to ask but Noiz had carried on with his explanation then, forcing him to swallow his questions down his throat.

“I needed people,” Noiz said, pulling out another spreadsheet with a list of what seemed like names on it. Some were crossed out; some were highlighted in yellow. “I was looking around for people to help me out. And,” he broke off again, shifting his eyes towards Aoba instead, who had just hitched a breath when he found his own name, highlighted in yellow on the sheet. “I wanted to recruit you.”

There was too much information for Aoba to handle. He had yet to properly understand the situation Noiz was clearing up to him now; all that he knew was that Noiz had planned to open a café right opposite of theirs, and that he had intended to recruit Aoba as part of his new team.

… that meant shedding Aoba off his current job and, more significantly, positioning Aoba in a spot where he would be the _competitor_ of Heibon Café…

… of Koujaku and Mizuki.

The realization hit him like a falling brick. The list of questions within him only amplified in numbers. He wanted so very much to clarify things with Noiz but Noiz had held his hand up then, effectively pushing his words back before they could make their way out of his mouth once again.

“But I gave up.”

“Huh?” Aoba let out a small sound, the only voice he managed to make ever since Noiz had ruthlessly overloaded him with the abundant of information.

“Like I said, you would never be as enthusiastic as how you are in your own café. And I don’t want to take that enjoyment out of you.”

“Are you… serious?” he finally managed to get his words out this time, even though the tone that came out from his mouth advocated nothing but profuse hesitance.

Noiz fell silent for a few seconds, eyes closed with half of his face secluded behind his crossed hands.

“I’m confident that this café would be a success. And eventually,” another pause and Aoba didn’t need more justification from him to know what he was about to say. “it’ll take over the others.”

Noiz was intelligent – that had always been Aoba’s impression towards him even ever since the first time he met him. He was positive that if Noiz was to say that it’d be a success then it _would_ be a success. Noiz never occurred to him as a person who would do something he never had the sureness in. Regardless of what he had in plan, if he was serious about it, Aoba was sure that he’d execute it without a glitch as well. Aoba wanted so much to support him, seeing how he was working so hard for his own future. He really did.

But…

He lowered his head, fists clenched on his knees. This was a hard-hitting decision. He _knew_ Noiz had been working on something without his knowledge and despite that, he’d made a decision to support him when the day came for Noiz to finally reveal his plan to him. But this was completely out of his own expectation. He wanted to tell Noiz that he would help him out as much as he could, just like how he had always been. But doing so meant going against his own partners, his own philosophies, and he just… couldn’t help himself to do so.

“I… need to know this,” he started. Taking a deep breath, he looked up, the gaze he fixed on Noiz portraying a deep sense of urgency that had Noiz fidget a little. “Will this step eventually crush Heibon Café as well?”

Noiz never answered then, at least not in words. But the long stretch of silence between them then had told Aoba enough of his answer as he let out a inaudible sigh, closing his eyes fleetingly before he spoke again.

“Give me some time.”

And that was all he said before he stood up, slung his bag over his shoulder, and headed towards the door without another word or another look at Noiz.

 

He had no idea how to face Noiz after that day. Noiz still came into the café without fail but Aoba simply couldn’t help himself to approach him. He didn’t know what else he could talk to Noiz, especially not when he hadn’t made up his own mind. Occasionally, he would peek at Noiz on purpose from the counter, just to find him back on his laptop again. Now that he knew that Aoba wouldn’t bother with him until he found an answer for him, he had returned to how he first acted when they first acquainted, completely wrapped up in his plan and pushing his surrounding buzz to the back of his mind. Aoba had tried to approach him for a few times when he was there. But before he could even come close to where Noiz was sitting, he would halt his steps, retreating back to the counter and giving out an immense sigh before he concentrated on his work, trying hard not to let his own frustration get into the way of his job.

He wanted to talk to Noiz; he _missed_ Noiz. But with his current mind-set, it wasn’t possible for him to conduct a natural conversation with Noiz, and it’d hurt both of them critically.

But this situation couldn’t carry on like this. It shouldn’t. They’d promised each other that they’d talk things through if anything was to happen. And now that they were facing such a crisis, avoiding each other clearly wasn’t the way to go.

And finally, on one day when Noiz came in drenched from head to toe in rainwater, Aoba snatched the chance by walking up to him with a towel, wrapping it around his head before he could even sit and started rubbing the water dry.

“Told you to check the weather before you come out of the house, didn’t I?” he grumbled under his breath, avoiding eye contact with Noiz while the other smiled at him, letting him mess around with his hair, all the time feeling a pang of warmth hitting him on the chest when he caught sight of the small pout Aoba was wearing on his face while he was at it. It didn’t seem like Aoba would stop anytime soon so Noiz held both his hands up instead, grasping Aoba on the wrists and effectively stopping him from using rubbing his head as a distraction to earn time for himself to figure out what he wanted to say to Noiz.

“I forgot. Well, that’s partly because I didn’t have someone to remind me about it,” he teased, taking pleasure in the way a faint blush appeared on Aoba’s face. Before he knew it, the towel was removed from his head, giving him a clear view of Aoba’s face. Looking away, Aoba put on a frown, seemingly still trying to search for his words. In an attempt to help him, Noiz enveloped his arms around his waist, pulling him over and straightaway planting a kiss on his forehead, catching Aoba completely off guard as he struggled.

“H-hey, we’re still in the shop—“

“Can’t wait,” Noiz mumbled against his skin.

He’d missed this. Frequent intimacy was nothing new to them ever since they started their relationship. The few days of distance had unquestionably heightened the agitated need within them, especially not helping when they were in such a close vicinity with each other at this very moment.

“H-hey…” Aoba struggled weakly in Noiz’s embrace. Upon feeling the light push against his chest, Noiz pulled their distance apart, just to see Aoba giving him a difficult look. “My shift is ending soon. Let’s go home together later?”

“My house?” Noiz asked with a tongue-in-cheek smirk.

Aoba looked away almost instantly, without answering Noiz. But that was more than enough for Noiz to obtain his answer, urging him to embrace Aoba in a firm hug again, contented with the warmth he’d long yearned for in his arms.

Noiz waited uncomplainingly for another hour until Aoba took his apron off and let his ponytail loose at long last. As he put his jacket over himself, Noiz stood up from his seat, clutching his stuff in his arms and made his way towards Aoba.

“I’ve gotten two umbrellas for us,” Aoba said gleefully.

“It’s fine,” Noiz said with a smile. “Let’s share one.”

“O-oh.”

Some things would never change. Despite the life-changing plan he’d heard from Noiz a few days back, resuming intimate interaction with him like this reminded Aoba so much of how Noiz was without a doubt, the Noiz he was knew very well. Regardless of what plans they had, and if they’d part ways in the long run, Aoba was certain that they’d find the perfect solution for each other nonetheless.

The walk back to Noiz’s house was a quiet one, albeit intimate. For the entire time, they held each other close in their hands, looking after each other as they tried as hard as they could to avoid the rainwater to fall on their partner. But the rain was unforgiving, as daunting as the one they’d experienced on their first date. When they finally found themselves in front of Noiz’s apartment, they were already drenched from head to toe, the chills pricking Aoba in the bones.

He was about to rush into the bathroom to grab a clean towel for them when Noiz pulled him back by the wrist, causing him to tumble into his boyfriend’s embrace before he looked up, just to see Noiz giving him an expression that spelt intensely of want.

“It’s fine,” Noiz was literally whispering into Aoba’s face, the hot breath sipping into Aoba’s skin and giving him a different sense of shudder all over.

“But… we’ll fall sick at this rate.”

“It’s fine,” Noiz repeated. There was a sort of earnestness in his voice that Aoba couldn’t forsake so hesitantly, he nodded, allowed himself to be ushered into the room as they found themselves sitting on the bed in Noiz’s bedroom, the water droplets from their body and clothes damping the dry mattress.

“You need to talk to me?” Noiz broke the silence, pushing Aoba’s mind onto a treadmill as he nodded, then hugging his knees.

“I’m sorry,” he started with a small voice. The rain was still pouring cripplingly outside the window and Noiz had to shift himself closer to Aoba just so he could catch every word he said. “It’s… I can’t betray my own café.” He paused, giving Noiz a few moments to digest his decision before he continued, “It’s all thanks to Koujaku that I’ve managed to settle myself with this job. There’s no way I could do anything that would put him in a bad position after all the troubles he’d gone through for me.”

He was expecting Noiz to give him a look of disappointment, perhaps even grief. But all that he’d gotten from his young boyfriend instead was a relieved smile. A nod later, Noiz leaned his head against Aoba’s, hugging him with one hand before he kissed him tenderly against the temple.

“I understand.”

“Really?” Aoba’s voice portrayed nothing of the optimism Noiz was so used to hear. In its place, it was filled with apprehensions and Noiz didn’t like it at all. The Aoba he knew was one of high spirited, and seeing a disheartened Aoba was the last thing he’d ever wanted, especially not when he was to be the cause of this.

“I’ve expected your answer anyway.” Then, without warning, he gave Aoba a full-body hug, their slick clothing pressed against each other, the dampness creating an inexplicable sensation on each other’s skin. “I’ve missed you.”

Aoba wanted so much to tell Noiz that he missed him too. Returning his hug, he buried his head against Noiz’s shoulder.

“Will you still stick with your plan then?” he asked, mumbling against Noiz’s skin.

He could feel Noiz nodding from behind him as he let out an instinctive sigh.

“I’m only giving up on recruiting you, but I’d still continue on with executing the plan.”

There were many thoughts in Aoba’s mind now. He’d _love_ to be of Noiz’s help, to assist him with his business plan, to witness his growth, and to grow with him in the process. But he was given an option between two bonds that were both extremely important to him now and there was no way he could choose between two. It was unfair, for himself, and for both parties. Regardless, with a weak smile, he ruffled Noiz’s hair before he spoke, now with a higher spirited voice than before.

“You go and do what you want to do. I’m glad you’re on the right track now.”

“You aren’t angry with me?”

“Why should I be angry with you?” Aoba let out a rancorous smile. “You’re doing what you believe in. I’m very happy for you. And Noiz,” he pulled himself out of Noiz’s embrace, staring him unwaveringly in the eyes. “no matter in which positions we’re in, as long as you’re chasing after your dream, I’ll be here supporting you, even though I could only morally supporting you now.”

“You don’t necessarily need to be working with me to give me physical support, you know?” Noiz teased, earning himself a hit of palm against the forehead.

“Ouch.”

“Yes, we’ll still see each other frequently, I’ll make sure of that,” Aoba pouted. “You don’t seem like you know how to take care of yourself yet either.”

While he rubbed against the spot where Aoba hit him, Noiz let out a breathy sigh, allowed a momentary stretch of silence between them before he started again, now with a more solemn tone than before.

“You might’ve figured this out but I’m not local.”

Aoba didn’t know what was with his unexpected change of topic but he listened anyway, allowing himself to sink into Noiz’s embrace while he positioned himself comfortably in between his boyfriend’s legs.

“I’m from Germany, my family owns one of the more influential corporation back in that place and had always wanted me to inherit their business. But that’s not what I wanted.”

When Aoba turned ever so slightly to capture Noiz’s expression, he noticed that Noiz was zoning out, seemingly reflecting on a past he never knew.

“I didn’t want to use my family’s influence for my own future. Thanks to that, we had a big fight and I ended up escaping here,” he ended with a cynical smile before he locked his gaze with Aoba’s. “I won’t get into your way. Will you trust me?”

Aoba then gave him a chuckle that sounded almost like a tease before he leaned upwards to kiss Noiz on the cheek.

“Who else would trust you if not me?”

That seemed to do the trick. Capturing Aoba in a wet kiss, Noiz supported his jaw with a hand, desperation apparent in his hasty action. They were still wet and cold and they needed to get themselves dry soon before they fell sick.

But those could wait; what they couldn’t wait was to fill in the gape of desire they dreadfully needed from each other now, for the long week of wait had erratically felt longer than how a week wait should feel like.

There were a lot of things in Aoba’s mind. Despite being firmed about his decision for being unable to help Noiz out, he still wanted to be of help in any other way possible. His thoughts were in a muddled state of mush when they embraced each other in their arms, the passion they were showering on each other became a temporary obstacle for his coherent thinking. But once he was lying down, completely powerless, on the bed, he could feel his thoughts picking up speed again. He wanted to say something, to give Noiz some assurance. But all that came out of his mouth were soft moans when Noiz nipped on the back of his neck while he lied face down against the mattress. And when he was about to tell Noiz to not worry about him again, Noiz had once again picking the initiative away from him. He could barely hear what Noiz said then, his mind slowly going into a state of daze. But he could unmistakeably make out the note Noiz had left him the next morning by his bedside table – one that pushed him into a whirlpool of distress.

“ _Give me more time._ ”

 

* * *

 

Noiz lied, Aoba silently cursed. One week without any contact at all wasn’t what he promised. He vowed to keep them in contact regardless of what he was to do. And Aoba was sure to tell him that he’d be there to support him regardless of what he planned to do. He wasn’t sure if the communication had been one-sided somewhere but as he sat behind the counter, clutching his head and trying to calm his thoughts down, he couldn’t help but blame Noiz for leaving him in a state of confusion just like this.

It was unfair, he bellowed on the inside. This situation gave him a horrible flashback of what happened the last time when Noiz suddenly stopped turning up thanks to his illness. He’d tried to call him; he’d rushed up to his doorstep to hunt him down. But all his efforts were futile. Noiz was nowhere to be seen, as if his existence had just disappeared into thin air just like that.

Aoba told himself that perhaps Noiz needed time for himself to restructure his thoughts and he had all the rights to do so and that Aoba had no rights to stop him whatsoever.

But at the very least, he thought as he slumped against the counter, exhausted and grief-stricken, Noiz should _tell_ him what he was up to so that he wouldn’t need to worry for him like that.

He told himself to give Noiz more time.

But soon, he realized that he didn’t need to wait for too long after all.

A one week and two days disappearance later, Noiz appeared in Heibon Café, in an appearance that made not only Aoba, but both Koujaku and Mizuki to drop their jaws.

He was in a slick set of suits, perfectly neat and spotless. The piercings were gone from his face, and when he sent a smile at Aoba’s direction, Aoba felt as if his insides would explode out of his shell right there and then.

He looked… different, but yet, he still looked like the nineteen-year-old brat Aoba was so accustomed to.

He didn’t know how to react when Noiz came up to the counter, coming face-to-face with Aoba.

“You…” Aoba gawked, still couldn’t quite believe what he was looking at.

“Sorry for the wait.” He even _sounded_ the same. “Did you miss me?”

He wanted so much to smack Noiz on the head but Noiz had leaned in then, kissing him delicately on the lips before he could even raise his hand.

“But I’m back once and for all now,” Noiz continued, flashing a sly smirk at Aoba as he went.

“What _exactly_ happened?” Aoba mouthed under his breath. He couldn’t quite make sense of the situation now and he knew that both Koujaku and Mizuki, who had been staring from the side line for a while now, couldn’t quite make out what was happening either.

“I’ll never give up with my plan to own a business for myself. But, there’s a minor change of plan.”

Aoba could only wait for Noiz to reveal the answer to him. Every word of his sounded heavy; every one of them resonated stridently in his head.

“I’m changing a direction. I’m not opening a café anymore, at least not for now.”

“Huh?”

This was totally not something he expected but Aoba waited all the same.

“I’m opening a candy shop as an alternative.”

“ _Huh?_ ” He felt stupid for acting in such an immature way but all he could do now was gaping at Noiz while the other smirked at him, as if he’d expected this reaction from him anyway.

“Here.” Attempting to clarify better, Noiz pulled a document file out of his briefcase, opening it up and showing Aoba a shop design that looked strangely like one that was inspired by bunnies. It was green on the external, and the internal designe looked like one from a video game field.

“Are you serious…” Aoba breathed, still trying to let the reality sink in.

Noiz nodded. “It’s not too hard for me to switch a plan, but it requires planning and more time and I didn’t want to waste more time anymore. So, I’m sorry for the sudden departure but everything is set now. The construction starts this week.”

Aoba wandered his eyes out of the window involuntarily – Noiz was right, there were already construction workers busying themselves in and out of the once abandoned plot of land right opposite their café.

“Do you want to join me this time?”

Noiz’s question pulled his attention back to him but he quickly shook his head again.

“I-I’d love to, Noiz, but..”

Noiz let out a small smile. “Expected it.”

It was surreal. Noiz’s pace was often too fast for Aoba to catch up, and he would often find himself struggling to make sure that both of them were in the right pace, doing what they really wanted to do. But his time, Noiz seemed to have stepped a foot faster than him. He didn’t leave Aoba behind; Aoba was still working towards becoming a proficient barista one day. But Noiz was also working his way to the top, and Aoba was sure that one day, he’d own a multinational corporation of his own, just like how his family did.

A few minutes of small talk later, Noiz took his leave, saying something about monitoring the progress and promising Aoba that he’d return when Aoba’s shift ended before he walked out of the café, just to be stopped by Koujaku, who’d literally ran after him the moment he saw him taking his leave.

“I know this might not come as a surprise for you but I just need to confirm,” Koujaku spoke as soon as he caught up with Noiz. Noiz was no longer impassive towards him; it surprised Koujaku, seeing how one person could turn a new leaf in a blink of an eye.

“Do you have anything to do with the contract we received a few days back regarding a collaborative project between our café and that new candy shop of yours?”

Noiz smirked. Turning around to properly face Koujaku, he said, with tease thick in his tone.

“Now that you know that that shop belongs to me, you should already know the answer, don’t you? Owner of Heibon Café.”

Koujaku’s eyes brightened in astonishment before he mirrored Noiz’s smirk.

“It’s unfair how you hide the truth from Aoba, don’t you think?” Noiz pestered.

“I don’t want to make him feel bad for the things I’ve done for him,” Koujaku defended.

“Understandable. In this case, how about we do a trade?” Noiz recommended. And before Koujaku could answer, he continued, “Keep this collaboration a secret from Aoba. I want to tell him myself.”

“Ah.. Well…”

The difficult look on Koujaku’s face told Noiz that _this_ wasn’t going according to his plan and soon enough, his mobile phone rang.

“It… might be too late,” Koujaku gave him a bitter smile.

With a sigh, Noiz shook his head, picking his phone up, his smile broadened when he saw the number on the screen.

“Don’t worry, kiddo.” Koujaku slung an arm around Noiz’s neck. “This is gonna be a _huge_ collaboration and _he_ ,” he pointed at Noiz’s phone. “knows it too. So you can tell him anytime you want now.”

Noiz’s beam told Koujaku that for once, they were both in the same line of thought as he held his hand out.

“For a great business future?”

Noiz took a while before he took Koujaku’s hand, giving him a confident smile that had Koujaku returned one of his own.

“Of course.”

He was no longer the suspicious customer in the café. After today, they’d be business partners. And with Aoba supporting both of them, they knew that they’d achieve great endeavours sooner or later.

Because support was all they needed; and was all they had.

 

_\- End -_


End file.
